


The Girl with the Tea Room

by LenoreFrost



Category: The Covenant (2006)
Genre: Actor Sebastian Stan, All Magic Comes With a Price, Apparently it's not for me, Because that's one of Chase's favorite modes of communication, Broken Families, Chase Collins is Alive, Chase Collins is Stupid Hot, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Issues, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Ipswich, Love Bites, Magic, Moral Ambiguity, Morally Ambiguous Character, Oral Sex, Possessive Behavior, Protectiveness, Regret, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Rough Sex, Scars, Seduction, Shameless Smut, Smut, Spiders, Tattoos, Tea, Threats of Violence, What the hell is 'non-graphic smut'?, Witchcraft, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-02-12 14:33:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 62,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21477928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LenoreFrost/pseuds/LenoreFrost
Summary: Chase Collins is back in Ipswich and fully expecting not to survive his reunion with Caleb Danvers and the Sons of Ipswich.  This is a very different Chase, though, one who spent the last five years on the run covered in horrible scars that serve as a constant reminder of his mistakes.  He knows that his Power is killing him and he doesn't expect to live long if he can't find a way to stop the aging.  But, now that he's here in Ipswich at the crossroads of life and death, he meets a beautiful woman who sees right past his scars.  She's covered in tattoos, owns her own tea room on the harbor, and instantly captures his heart.  Too bad he killed her brother at that bonfire five years ago....
Relationships: Chase Collins (The Covenant) & Caleb Danvers, Chase Collins (The Covenant)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	1. Ember and Sebastian

The bell above the door jingled and I looked up from the cup of English Breakfast I was fixing myself. The Hatter’s was empty save for myself and my business partner, Bucky the Maine Coon, who was glaring at the newcomer from the top of the bookcase which housed the boxes of tea for sale. The man who entered the shop was of average height but broad-shouldered beneath his grey peacoat. His brown hair was long and covered most of his face, but as he turned his head, I caught sight of tendrils of scars hiding beneath the hair. His eyes locked with mine as he approached the counter. They were blue-grey and I couldn’t decide if they were attractive or unnerving. “Hi,” I said, smiling my usual tea room smile. “Can I get you a cup of tea?”

The guy nodded and looked up at the chalkboard on the wall above my head. “A London Fog would be great.”

“Sure.” His voice was very deep, a little rough, and unbearably sexy. I set about preparing his London Fog, pouring boiling water into a mug with the Earl Grey tea in a tea ball. “Feel free to look around. Let me know if I can get you a pastry or a cup of soup or anything.”

He didn’t say anything, but I could sense him beginning to move about the tea room as I frothed the milk and vanilla. I was just pulling the tea ball from his mug and setting it aside when he asked, “What’s your cat’s name?”

I looked over my shoulder and saw him reaching up to let Bucky sniff at his hand. Bucky seemed hesitant, but deigned to take a sniff. “Bucky. He’s my business partner.”

“Nice. I hope he doesn’t take care of your bookkeeping.”

“No, but he is my manager. Be careful. He likes tea and he has a habit of stealing when you’re not looking.” I brought his London Fog to the counter and he walked back to me to accept it. “Is there anything else I can get you right now?”

“This is great. Thanks.” He smiled as he met my gaze and it changed his whole face. Suddenly, he was boyish and probably funny when he put the effort in. I could also see now that he wasn’t nearly as old as I would have first guessed. He certainly wasn’t older than me and I was twenty-five. He wrapped his hands around the mug and I watched him, noting the pink and silver scars on his left hand. He must have caught me looking because he clammed right up and made to move stiffly towards the armchairs by the fireplace.

I bit my lip and thought for a moment. I knew what it felt like to constantly have people staring at you, thinking of you as some poor broken thing, something worthy of pity but not love. Very deliberately, I rolled up my sweater to my elbows, exposing my sleeves of tattoos, and grabbed my English Breakfast, walking slowly around the counter. “Do you mind if I sit with you?” I asked. “Wednesdays are always quiet and I could use the company.”

He looked up from his tea in surprise. “Um, yeah. Sure.” I gave him another smile and deliberately took the armchair on his left side without looking at the scars. I stared into the fire and sipped my tea, feeling him watching me. Finally, he said, “I love your tattoos. Full sleeves?”

I nodded. Carefully, I set my tea down on the coffee table and faced him, holding my arms out so he could see the tattoos all the way around. He set down his tea as well and peered at the tattoos, his fingertips very gently turning my arms over, as if afraid to touch me. His fingers were cold, probably from the autumn wind outside, but they didn’t give me chills. He tipped his head to one side and looked up and down my forearms again. “Beautiful.”

“Thank you,” I said, smiling. “Usually when guys see them, their only response is to ask where else I have them.”

The guy laughed once, the accompanying smile again transforming his face. He really was beautiful. It was too bad he hid it behind all that hair. “It usually takes me a few drinks before I can hit on a girl.”

I raised an eyebrow at him and smirked. “A handsome guy like you is too shy to flirt?”

The smile turned into a grimace and I immediately regretted the words. He released my arms and picked up his mug of tea again. “Yeah, well, I used to be a ladies’ man. But, when you look like this…” he waved his left hand briefly at me, showing off the scars. “Well, no one wants to flirt with Freddie Krueger.”

I suppose a lot of people wouldn’t have known the right thing to say to that. I was not one of those people. I shrugged, let my smile return, and reached out to clasp his hand. A jolt went through him, but he didn’t pull away. “Well, you’re welcome to flirt with me anytime, handsome, and I mean it.”

A blush broke out on his face and a small smile accompanied it. I squeezed his hand gently, then released it to grab my mug. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Ember. Yours?”

“Sebastian.”

“I haven’t seen you around before. Are you a tourist?”

He shrugged, peering down at his tea. “Something like that. I spent some time here years ago and I’m just in town for a few days to settle some things.” He took a long sip of his tea. “This is amazing.”

I beamed with pride. “Good. If you know how to make them at home, I have that brand of Earl Grey for sale here. I could give you a deal.”

“I might have to take you up on that.” Sebastian took another sip and I watched intently as he licked foam from his upper lip. “Are you from here originally?”

I shook my head. “Maine, up near Augusta. But my little brother was a student at Spenser’s. For years, all he wanted was to go to school there. He talked endlessly about it and about Ipswich. I felt like I knew this place better than I knew Augusta.” Sebastian had his full attention on me now and it made me a bit nervous, but we’d just been talking about how he couldn’t flirt with anyone anymore because of his scars. Who was I to hide mine? “Well, he got in five years ago. I moved here with him and started working at a coffeeshop downtown to get by. We’d never lived apart and didn’t want to start then. We were barely settled in and I got a phonecall at three in the morning.” Sebastian stiffened in shock, maybe from the story itself or maybe from the fact that I’d told him. Everyone in town knew who I was, though, and who my brother was. I’d gotten used to people knowing. “He was at a start of the year bonfire and overdosed. The police found him dead in his car. I didn’t even know he did drugs. It seemed so unlike him.” I shook my head, then, and took a sip of tea. “I can’t exactly argue with it, though. He’s dead either way.”

“I’m so sorry,” Sebastian said hoarsely.

“Don’t be. You didn’t have anything to do with it. Anyway, it didn’t feel right to leave the place he so wanted to be, the place I buried him. So, I stayed.”

“What about the rest of your family?”

I shrugged. “There really wasn’t much to the rest of my family. My mother left when I was five and my father was an ass who expected too much. Nothing was good enough for him. For Dan, my brother, that pushed him to be better. It just pushed me away.”

Sebastian grumbled, then said lowly, “Yeah, I know what that’s like.”

“Your father was a pusher too?”

He nodded. “My mother too. They drove me half-mad. I was never good enough, never. I don’t think they ever actually loved me, even. They adopted me when I was two and they loved to remind me that I wasn’t really theirs.”

I looked down into my tea, hearing my father’s shouts in my head. “I hear you. Did you get out?”

“In a way.” He looked into the fire, his eyes glazing over. “They died in a car accident when I was eighteen. I still don’t know whether I regret that or not.”

“You can’t let the past own you. My father didn’t think I’d amount to anything. He once told me the only way I’d earn a living was on a street corner.” I gestured at the tea room around us. “Now I own my own business, I have an apartment upstairs that’s mine, I have friends here in town, I even go on a date on a rare occasion. I have a life and it’s pretty good and my past has nothing to do with what I have now.”

Sebastian studied me for a long time before nodding slowly. “That’s really good advice. And, for what it’s worth, I really admire you.”

That stunned me. A hot blush rushed to my cheeks and I tightened my hands on my mug. “You mean that?”

He nodded, his eyes sharp, his face sincere. “Yeah. I know how hard it is to do anything without a support system. And you did all of this with no one’s help. That’s awesome.”

“Thanks.” I bit my lip and looked to the fire, then back to him. “No one’s ever said anything like that to me before. I loved my brother and he loved me, but even he never said anything like that to me.”

“That’s rotten. You’ve earned it and I do mean it.” Sebastian took a final long sip of his tea, then set the empty mug down. “What do I owe you?”

A smile crept into my face. “That depends. How long did you say you’re in town?”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at me, a hint of a smile reaching his lips. “Just a few days. Why?”

I shrugged. “Well, if you’re still around on Friday night, you can buy me dinner and we’ll be square.”

A slow grin entered Sebastian’s expression, the kind of grin that, if I could see his whole face, would probably be a total panty-dropper. “I suppose I could stay through Friday.”

I gave him a grin of my own. “Then I’ll see you here at six, handsome.”

He blushed again, but the grin didn’t fade.


	2. Pleading the Case

_Chase pulled over to the side of the narrow road about a mile from the Danvers estate, taking his head in his hands and trying to focus the mayhem inside. He allowed his fingers to slide through his now long hair and press against the scars, the goddamn scars.

The scars she had seen right past. Ember.

He’d come all this way after five years of fear and confusion with the understanding that he probably wouldn’t survive the trip. In fact, it was extremely unlikely that he’d survive the next hour. He had been perfectly fine with that after all he’d done and with all that he was facing by staying away. But now…

She had been so damn beautiful and she was so successful despite her youth. A woman like her could have anyone, but she only ‘went on dates occasionally’ and she’d chosen to flirt with _him_, him of all people. She’d taken his hand, he could still feel the warm softness of her skin, her fingers had lingered on his goddamn scars, and she’d called him handsome.

He’d been called that before, but not in the last five years. In the last five years, he’d never had anyone look at him with anything other than fear, pity, or disgust.

Except her. Ember. The woman with the tea room and the tattoos, vines winding around her arms, black roses blooming in their midst, eyes peering from behind them, spiders creeping along them. What kind of girl tattooed spiders on her arms? And, on her left wrist, the words in a sharp script, _not today_.

Terrifying and beautiful.

And yeah, he wanted to see the rest of her tattoos.

“Fuck,” he groaned into his hands. This was so messed up. What were the odds he would still be alive on Friday night? Slim to none. But he wanted to be. He wanted to see her again before he died.

Time to get on with it.

He put the car back in gear and drove at the speed limit to the Danvers estate, pulling up through the open gate to the front steps. He parked, took a deep breath, and got out, leaving the keys on the dash to make it easy for Caleb to move his car if he did kill him.

It was a long walk up the stairs to the front door and once he was there, he refused to be weak and hesitate before he rang the bell. It took only thirty seconds or so, thirty seconds that felt like thirty hours, before Caleb opened the door. He hadn’t changed much in five years, though his facial features had sharpened, losing what little boyishness he’d had. He frowned deeply. “Can I help you?”

_Here goes nothing._ Chase took a fortifying breath, then brushed his hair back behind his ears, revealing his face and his scars. He watched Caleb stiffen in shock. “I hope so, but I really doubt it.”

Caleb appeared to be choking on his tongue, but it passed in a moment and he was on the front step with Chase, the door shut tight behind him. “Chase. You should’ve stayed away. I thought you were dead.”

Chase shrugged. “Well, as you know, I’m going to be dead soon anyway if I don’t get help. You’re the only one who can help me.”

Caleb’s face darkened and he shook his head in disbelief. “And what the fuck makes you think I’d help you?”

That brought the tiniest smile to his face. Same old Caleb. “Well, you haven’t killed me yet, we’re still talking. And helping is what you do, isn’t it? Mr. Knight in Shining Armor, still here taking care of your mom instead of going to Harvard like you meant to.”

Caleb scowled. “Believe me, I’m quite tempted to kill you and we both know I could.”

He snorted. “Yeah, and I’ve got the scars to prove it.”

“What exactly do you think it is I can do for you, Chase? There’s no way to stop or reverse the aging. I tried to tell you that. If you’re here for more power, you won’t get it.”

He shook his head immediately, his eyes darting away. “No, that’s not what I’m after. I learned that lesson.” He took a deep breath, then let it out in a frustrated huff. “I’m here because I know you have some kind of library and I think there’s a chance I can find something hidden away in there that could help me.”

Caleb was shaking his head again. “Unbelievable. No. Absolutely not. For one thing, for three hundred years, the Covenant has been using those texts looking for a way to stop the aging, and for another, there is absolutely no reason why I should trust you enough to give you access to fucking spellbooks.”

His head was in his hands again as he began to pace. “I know. I know that, I do. But I’m running out of options and I’m running out of time. My muscles are deteriorating, my heart is weaker, my lungs are weaker, I get sick all the damn time. Sometimes, I look in the mirror and think I look twenty years older. I’m freaking out and I didn’t know who else to turn to.”

“So you turned to the guy you tried to kill? The guy whose friends you tried to kill? Seriously?”

“There’s no one else!” he snapped, throwing his hands out wide. The Power hummed under his skin, but he kept it caged. “Don’t you get it? There’s no one else who could possibly help me.”

“There’s no one at all who can help you, Chase. You did this to yourself.”

“I didn’t know!” To his embarrassment, his voice broke on those words and he turned away from Caleb as tears burned his eyes. “I didn’t fucking know! All I knew was that for once, I had control of something! I could do anything I wanted, I could get out from under my adoptive parents’ boots and live my life. And then I found my father and he told me what little he knew and he was in a fucking nursing home, Caleb! He was forty years old in a fucking nursing home on a fucking ventilator! Fuck….” Then, he was actually crying, unable to stop the fear and panic from taking hold. He turned and found Caleb staring at him in shock. “I don’t want to die like this. So, help me or kill me, I don’t care. If you won’t do either, then I’m going to go on a date on Friday and then off myself and that’s fine. Just tell me what it’s going to be.”

Caleb sighed and shut his eyes tight. After an eternity, he extended his hand. “Give me your phone.” He unlocked his phone and handed it to Caleb, who keyed in a number and sent a text to it. “I’m not saying yes or no, not until I talk to the others. I’ll call you on Saturday after your last date or whatever and give you my answer. I think you know what my answer would be, but I make no promises for Pogue, Reid, and Tyler.”

Chase took his phone back, stunned. “You’re not killing me.”

Caleb smiled wryly. “Not yet. But if you Use here in Ipswich, I will feel it and then the deal will be off the table.”

_Fuck._ He shut his eyes in defeat. “Caleb. I’m addicted. You know that.”

Caleb shrugged. “I know. But if you really want to live, the easiest way to extend your life is by not Using. It’s three days, Chase. Take it or leave it, but I’m not dealing with you endangering innocents and the Covenant by Using. I remember what happened when you got caught Using five years ago. I remember how you _handled _it.”

He flinched. Dan. Ember’s brother. “Fine. I won’t Use between now and your call.”

“Good. Now go. I don’t want to see you anywhere near here again.”

Chase held up his hands in surrender and descended the steps to his car. Caleb watched him the whole time, not lifting his eyes from him as Chase got in the car and pulled away from the house. Even as he took off down the road, he could feel Caleb’s dark eyes boring holes in the back of his skull.


	3. A Charmer

On Thursday morning, I awoke to my alarm at 4am, got ready for the day, and descended from my little apartment to prepare a pot of tea and take my walk along the harbor, travel mug in hand. The morning was pitch-dark, but the moonlight glinted off the rippling water and the fishing boats and pleasure cruisers docked at the marina seemed to glow. The harbor walk was uneven, but I knew it like the back of my hand and easily navigated every step. The air was cool and I tightened my green peacoat around my core, reflecting that I would soon have to switch to my winter jacket for my morning walks.

When I got back home, I went straight to The Hatter’s and began my opening routine, filling the carafes with boiling water, placing the pots of soup I’d made the night before on the stove to warm up, doing the last-minute baking of the morning breads, pastries, and cakes. I rotated the stock of teacakes, exiling the old ones to either the glass cabinet for display or the backroom for Bucky and I to eat before they got too stale. I took the chairs down off the café tables and washed the tabletops, then started the fire in the fireplace. Finally, I prepped the cash register, then, right on schedule, I flipped on the lights and unlocked the front door.

The tea room was in the historic district, right in tourist central, which meant I ran my ass off during the summer when the tourist business was in full swing. Now that it was late October there were far fewer tourists, but I still had my regulars and the people who were hooked on the boxed teas. Soon, the Christmas shoppers would be out and about and I’d be putting out the china tea sets which sold so well during the holiday season.

There was a morning rush as always and this morning, I ran right out of pumpkin spice bread and had to prep a few more loaves to bake on the fly. I should have expected it, really. It was the season for it, after all. The tea room finally quieted down to just a few single people sipping tea around the room while working at their laptops or phones. I was taking the pumpkin spice loaves out of the oven and setting them on the cooling rack when the bell over the front door jingled. “Just a moment,” I said, pulling a tea ball out of a pot for Mrs. Reynolds’ refill. Then, teapot in hand, I turned to face the new customer.

Sebastian.

I couldn’t help the grin that stretched across my face at the sight of him and he smiled right back at me. “Stay right there,” I said. “I need to drop off this teapot while it’s hot.”

“By all means,” Sebastian said, gesturing to the room at large. I hurriedly moved around the counter and brought the pot to the café table where Mrs. Reynolds was seated and dropped it off with a polite comment. Then, I was on my way back, reaching out to lay a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder as I passed by him. His head snapped to look at me in surprise, but I pretended not to notice, just moved around the counter to lean on it and face him. I suspected that the guy was touch-starved and resolved to keep touching him until he got used to it. “You move fast,” he said.

“The morning rush just ended. I’m still in speed mode. Can I get you something?”

He smiled. “London Fog?”

I grinned and turned to begin preparing the tea. “You know it’s pretty easy to make at home.”

“I have made it at home before, but it’s not the same. Yours is perfect.”

I blushed and left the tea to steep while I frothed the milk and vanilla. “You know the way to a girl’s heart, don’t you?”

“Tea?”

“That too, but I meant compliments.” I removed the tea ball and poured the foam, bringing the steaming mug to him. “There you go.”

Sebastian met my gaze, his eyes impossibly blue and intense. “Thank you. And I’m just being honest. You are an expert tea maker.”

“You are a charmer, aren’t you?”

He smiled again. He seemed much happier today than he had yesterday, more hopeful. “That’s what they used to tell me. I’m a bit rusty, though.”

“Well, you’re welcome to practice on me all you like,” I said with a grin. “I didn’t expect to see you again until tomorrow. Things must be going well with your unfinished business?”

His head tipped slightly to the right. “You could say that. I got the hardest part over with yesterday. Now I’m waiting to hear back from my contact.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” I left it at that. His business was his business and I could tell he wasn’t the type to share his inner thoughts easily. He’d been hurt too many times for that. Instead, I went for something more innocuous. “So, where are you from? You don’t have an accent.”

“I moved around a lot as a kid for my parents’ work. My birth certificate says Boston, but I’ve never spent any time there. The last few years, I bounced around some more. D.C., Charleston, Philadelphia. I actually spent a few months in Maine.”

“Oh yeah? Where?”

Sebastian smiled. “Bar Harbor. I’d been told it was beautiful and it didn’t disappoint.”

I nodded, thinking fondly of the visits Dan and I had taken to Bar Harbor. “I love Bar Harbor. Did you watch the sun rise from Cadillac Mountain?” He shook his head, his eyes sparking with interest. “Then you missed the best part. The top of Cadillac Mountain is the first place you can see the sun rise on the eastern seaboard. Especially in fall when the leaves are changing, it’s gorgeous. I’ve never been there in winter, but I imagine it’s wonderful.”

“I’ll have to go back,” he said, but despite the light in his eyes, he sounded doubtful, like he didn’t think he’d have the chance. What would bring a man with such a nomadic lifestyle to a standstill? He didn’t have family weighing him down. Maybe it was his business in Ipswich. Did he think it wouldn’t pan out? Or maybe he had health problems. Maybe whatever had caused his scars had left other kinds of damage. I didn’t like to think about that, though, didn’t like the idea of Sebastian being ill or injured. “Have you travelled much?”

I shook my head. “I’ve travelled a bit in Maine and I came here, of course, but otherwise, I haven’t been anywhere really.”

“That’s a shame. I suppose you don’t get many days off running your own business.”

I shrugged. “No, but that’s fine. It keeps me busy. I suppose I could take time in the winter when the town is so quiet, but I never really had a reason to before.”

Sebastian gave that panty-dropping smile. “Well, if all goes well with my stuff here, maybe you and I can go up to Cadillac Mountain this winter.”

That was extremely forward, but quite welcome. I blushed and said, “Well, I would love to see that sunrise again.”

Sebastian’s blue-grey eyes smoldered. “It’s a date.”

The bell over the door jingled and Sebastian and I both glanced that direction as a new customer walked in. When I looked back to Sebastian, he just smiled at me and retreated with his London Fog to an armchair by the fire.

As I moved about preparing and serving tea, serving breads, cakes, and cups of soup, my mind was torn between my work and Sebastian. I couldn’t seem to stop sneaking glances at him out of the corner of my eye. It never happened when I was talking to customers, I hadn’t completely lost my mind, but when I was doing mundane things like frothing milk or ladling soup, all bets were off. Every now and then, I could feel his blue-grey eyes boring into me, but I never caught him watching me. Every time I looked over, his gaze was trained on the fire, his mug cradled in his hands. He looked so comfortable and yet confident there, as if he was made to sit in armchairs drinking tea. And it occurred to me then that my ideal man, a quiet, brooding tea drinker, was probably to be found in the exact state he was in right then. It was horribly alluring.

When a lull occurred in the tea room a half hour later, Sebastian appeared at the counter once more and handed me his empty mug. “What do I owe you?” he asked.

I smirked, knowing instantly what I wanted. I leaned in a little closer to him over the counter and, quietly, in the voice I reserved for the bedroom, I said, “You owe me dessert.”

Sebastian stared at me for a minute as a smile crept across his features, finally reaching his eyes and causing them to sparkle. He raised an eyebrow and said, his voice low, just for me, “I bet you’re a chocolate girl. Smooth, rich, complex. _Decadent._”

I loved the way his deep voice curled around those words. It made my skin shimmer with warmth. “Preferably with an equally decadent glass of wine.”

Sebastian grinned, his eyes sparking mischievously. “One glass of wine for a lovely girl like you? Why not a bottle? I’m happy to spoil you with all the decadence you could possibly want.”

I giggled. “Suddenly, I’m making out quite well with this deal.”

Sebastian leaned his forearms on the counter and his right hand crept forward, his fingertips just barely trailing along the top of my hand to my fingertips. His eyes never left mine as goosebumps that had nothing to do with chills rose on my skin. “I can assure you, Ember, I’m the one making out well.” He very gently squeezed my middle fingertip between his thumb and forefinger, then released me and began moving backward. “I’ll see you tomorrow at six.”

“Tomorrow at six,” I agreed, refusing to admit how light-headed I suddenly felt. A part of me wondered if I could wait that long to see him again.


	4. At Nicky's

There were plenty of bars in Ipswich, but I liked Nicky’s. A lot of the students from Spenser’s hung out there, drinking Cokes and playing pool or foosball. I had no interest in billiards and I preferred whatever the darkest tap beer Nicky’s was currently pouring to a Coke, but I liked it anyway.

It was easy to imagine Dan here, having fun with his schoolmates, probably procrastinating over an essay or math assignment until he got back to the dorms, then staying up until two to finish it. That was how he was, he never stopped, always pushing his own limits to get as much out of life as he could, always ambitious without forgetting to enjoy the present. It was an admirable way to live.

I got my beer, a stout by one of the local breweries, Idle Hands, and perched on a barstool far from the noise of the jukebox. I liked to drink at home, where I could make my favorite toddies or use my stock of Maine liquors and sodas to make the mixers I remembered from home, but for all the people I saw at the Hatter’s, I still led a rather lonely life. It was nice to come here to unwind and talk to people about something other than tea. Sometimes that meant talking about my dead brother, but those conversations had become less frequent as the years since his death stretched onward.

I was halfway through my beer when the doors opened and two local guys I knew walked in, Caleb Danvers and Pogue Parry. They were guys I had met here years ago and occasionally ran into, decent guys. Pogue was married to his longtime sweetheart Kate and Caleb until recently had been in a longterm relationship himself with a girl named Sarah who went off to Harvard while he stayed here in Ipswich, so they’d never made a move on me or vice versa. It was nice to talk to guys, though, who didn’t care about people’s pasts as much as girls did and didn’t read into things so much. I always had to watch my tongue among the local women with their small-town ways.

I waved to Caleb and Pogue, who waved back congenially despite both looking deeply troubled. I abandoned my barstool and slipped between a couple of guys watching a game of pool to approach them. They had just gotten beers when I joined them. “Hey, Ember,” Caleb said, offering me a smile.

In return, I gave him my tea room smile, the one that was kind and warm without having any meaning to it. “Hey, boys.” I turned my attention to Pogue. “How’s Kate?”

“Working her ass off, as always. They’re still short-handed at Gloucester, so she’s picking up extra shifts.” He shrugged stiffly. “She says I’ll be glad she did it when the Christmas bills come, but it’s rough now.”

“I hear you.”

“How about you?” Pogue asked with a teasing smile. “Has anyone made it to the second date lately?”

I snorted, knowing he meant it in the kindest joking way possible. And he was right. I had rather high standards lately after dating a couple losers in the early years after losing Dan. “No, but I have a first date tomorrow night I have high hopes for.”

Caleb grinned. “Anyone we know?”

“Probably not. He’s from out of town, here on business for a little while.”

The mood immediately changed, though their expressions didn’t. I knew both men to be practiced liars, though I had yet to determine what about. “Yeah?” Caleb asked. “What’s his name?”

“Sebastian. He’s been in the tea room a few times.” I gave them a crooked smile to dispel the tension. “He’s very charming in a quiet sort of way and I’ve been promised a bottle of wine and dessert, so he might be a keeper.”

That earned me a laugh and they both instantly relaxed. Whoever they’d thought my date was had apparently been ruled out. I supposed I should be relieved, but it just left me unsettled by their secretiveness. They were definitely good guys, guys who would have your back if things were to go sour, but they were not trustworthy. They were good ol’ boys through and through and that meant that they’d kill for anyone in their inner circle. It was great for those in their inner circle…and far less great for those out of it. They only handed out exclusive passes into their elite club and if you weren’t in and you got on their bad side, I had a hunch that they’d sell your organs and make the rest of you disappear. Fine by me as long as I’m on the right side of that, but I knew I wasn’t and the Dan hadn’t been. Sometimes I wondered if guys like Caleb and Pogue had had anything to do with Dan’s death. All over the country kids died in hazing rituals. What if that was what it had been and they had left his body behind for the cops to find? The thought made me sick.

Which was why I liked to work people in Ipswich, especially complicated people like Caleb and Pogue. I prided myself on being a lot smarter than most people would guess, using a brain that earned a 1450 on the SAT when it benefitted me and when no one else saw it. While I analyzed every word they said, they checked out my pile of strawberry blond hair and my endless tattoos and tried to remember whether I’d gone to college or not. Answer: no, but you wouldn’t know it from playing chess with me.

“Speaking of dates, how is Sarah?” I asked Caleb thoughtfully, knowing full well how she was. “I haven’t seen her in town in awhile.”

Caleb’s jaw hardened, but otherwise he gave no indication of his feelings on the subject and Pogue didn’t react at all, sipping his beer with preoccupation, but not over the conversation. So, the breakup was old news and definitely not what they’d been stewing over when they walked in. “She’s alright, so I’ve heard. We haven’t actually talked in a long time.”

My face shattered into the expression I used when someone in the tea room needed sympathy. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. I know you were close for a long time. That must be tough.”

Caleb took a pull on his beer and shrugged. “It is, but you know how life is. Shit happens, but if you wallow in it, you’re not ready when the next storm comes.”

I frowned and took the liberty of perching on the barstool next to Caleb. “Caleb, is everything alright? Is your mom doing…?”

He stiffened and I cut off the words, but he just gave an impatient wave of his hand. “She’s…the same. It’s not…” He sighed and Pogue looked at him sharply. “It’s this…distant relative from out of town. He showed up a few days ago hoping to get some stuff that belonged to my dad.”

Seriously? All kinds of bizarre, but not worth stewing over like this. Judging by Pogue’s simmering anger, though, it was clearly the root of their upset and Caleb was not meant to be telling me this. Good. This was exactly what I wanted, an edge. If someone got on their bad side, none of my friends and I myself would not get hurt in the crossfire. “That’s weird after all these years. Did you still have the stuff?”

Pogue’s hand was gripping Caleb’s shoulder, but Caleb just shrugged stiffly. “Yeah, but it’s valuable. I can’t give it to him and risk it biting me in the ass.”

“How would it bite you in the ass, though? It’s just stuff, right? And if he showed up five years later, it must be something he needs urgently that you’d be doing him a favor by giving him.”

“Damn right, but the bastard hasn’t exactly earned any favors,” Pogue growled.

I raised an eyebrow and studied their faces. Pogue was ready to punch someone, but Caleb was noticeably stiff and was staring down into his beer. I tipped my head curiously and decided to go for broke. “If you dealt it back…which I’m sure a tough guy like you did…and he’s showing up asking anyway, it’s really important and he’s giving you a chance to repair that relationship. He’s forgiving you for whatever you dealt him in exchange for this. It’s a risk, obviously, and it is your stuff, but he may end up being a friend or ally down the road.”

“He’s not the kind of guy you want for a friend,” Caleb said grimly. “He’s powerful and smart, but so manipulative. He’s done…evil things, unforgivable things.”

“To you?”

“To all of us.” As if realizing what he said or who he was talking to, Caleb’s eyes snapped to mine looking almost…guilty. Then, in a moment, he’d looked away again.

He knew what had happened to Dan. And it had something to do with this distant relative.

It was a miracle I’d gotten as much information as I had and I was already pushing the envelope. I needed to back off while I still had their respect and take my information with me. I shrugged and took a pull of my beer, then said, “I guess I don’t know the guy. I’m a forgiving person, though, so that’s just me. Maybe he doesn’t deserve it.”

“He doesn’t,” Pogue said harshly, looking directly at Caleb. So this was a group debate. It was common knowledge that Caleb, Pogue, and their friends Reid and Tyler who were at Harvard were all distant relatives, the so-called Sons of Ipswich. Was this an Ipswich family matter, then? Some piece of family lore that they didn’t want to give up?

I took a final drink of my beer, set the empty bottle down, and left a tip. “Good luck with your thing, guys. I have to get to bed…another early morning tomorrow.”

“I don’t know how you do that,” Caleb said, seeming to have relaxed a hair. “My sleep habits are a mess.”

I smiled at him. “The tea room makes me happy. Every morning my alarm sounds and I remember that I have something to get up for. It’s a nice way to live.”

“I envy you. Walk safe.”

“Will do.”


	5. Withdrawal

By that night, Chase realized that he was in withdrawal.

He’d been in withdrawal before, of course. He’d tried plenty of times to go without Using in hopes of forestalling the aging. In the past he hadn’t made it more than two days.

This time, he would have to make it three.

Ember didn’t seem to have noticed, thank god, but he’d been nursing a headache all day and shortly after he’d left The Hatter’s, his hands had started to shake. He’d picked up a can of soup from the grocery store, then retreated to the cabin he’d rented just outside of Ipswich. A bed and breakfast or the motel would have been cheaper, but he’d learned from his adoptive parents to spare no expense and he was especially inclined toward that philosophy now that he probably had less than a decade before he landed himself in a nursing home. Besides, he needed his privacy this week. 

Of course, he’d planned on needing the privacy so he could Use, not so he could suffer through the withdrawal.

He was glad to get back to the cabin when he did because he hadn’t been there long before the headache became bad enough that he couldn’t see straight and, when he shut his eyes, he saw white. He moaned in misery and swallowed a handful of Tylenol to take the edge off. Then, he retreated to the shower, knowing that that usually helped a little. By the time he got out of the shower and dressed in his pajamas, he was slightly less miserable. He started a kettle of water for tea and warmed up his soup on the stove. He made himself a cup of decaf Earl Grey, knowing that the caffeine would have helped his headache but would have also pushed the Power to demand his attention.

The soup tasted good but made him nauseous. The tea was better and he sat in the dark living room drinking it, trying to ignore his body. The Power was beginning to hum under his skin and his hands were shaking badly enough that he could hardly hold his teacup. He finished the tea and set the cup aside. He thought about the places he’d visited and the things he’d seen. He thought about the places he still wanted to go. He thought about Ember, her strawberry hair in its thick braid almost to her waist. Would she wear it loose on Friday? What would it feel like if he ran his fingers through it? What would it smell like if he kissed her temple? He imagined those dark eyes of hers seeing right through him, as they always seemed to. He hardly knew her and she understood him better than most anyone ever had. And those tattoos…what would she wear on Friday? Something a little more revealing so he could see more of the art on her skin? He’d been with girls with tattoos before, but they usually had dumb tattoos, overdone song lyrics, hearts, names they wished they could afford to have removed, Chinese glyphs that sometimes didn’t even represent what they were supposed to. Ember’s tattoos had layers and meaning to them, though. There was a great deal of imagination and feeling behind those tattoos. Roses were common, but not thorned vines, not eyes peering through darkness, not spiders. And there was that phrase: not today.

The Power shivered under his skin.

He pushed it from his mind.

What would it be like to see the sunrise from Cadillac Mountain in the winter? Would the sky’s hues of gold, red, and violet reflect off the snow and ice? How much of the water around the island would be frozen? Would it be possible to walk across it to Bar Island? Would there be many tourists? Or would the town be nice and quiet in the off-season? He wanted to know these things.

He wanted to live long enough to find them out.

The Power was vibrating, trying to escape through his pores.

Caleb had said _it’s three days_ like it was nothing. But Caleb never Used if he could help it. Using had been something Chase did constantly for so long that he had a thousand everyday things that his body insisted he Use for. He Used to watch for deer and police cruisers when he was driving. He Used to push himself faster when he was running or swimming. He Used to see the stars through the ceiling at night, to warm himself when he was cold or to cool down when he was hot. He Used to get the water in the shower to exactly the right temperature. He Used to bring the kettle to an instant boil for his tea. Hell, he Used to change the channel rather than grab the TV remote.

He couldn’t now, though.

The Power hummed.

He took a shaky breath, trying and failing to calm his nerves. His heart was racing now and he felt light-headed. He got up from the couch and went back to the kitchen with his teacup. He started the water back up, then dug through his bag for the chamomile tea and gin. Straight alcohol or alcohol with caffeine eroded his judgment faster than it dulled the Power. Chamomile with gin, his liquor of choice, dulled his nerves fast enough to soothe the withdrawal rather than convincing him to Use. Sleeping pills worked too, but he didn’t like how helpless they made him feel. The toddy numbed the Power, not his mind.

He prepared the toddy and inhaled the steam curling in the air over the cup. It had the floral scent of chamomile and the pine fresh scent of gin. He sipped it, burning his tongue but not caring. Just the flavor and the association he had between it and that calmness immediately began to soothe him.

Thirty-six hours. He could do this.

\---------------

Between the humming of the Power, the rising and falling waves of headache, and thinking about Ember and about Caleb, Chase hardly slept Thursday night. At dawn, he gave up and changed into his swim shorts under sweats, grabbed a towel, and drove out to the beach.

It was a cold, gloomy day, not great for a dip in the ocean, but at least it wasn’t windy. Frost crystalized the fading grass and dampened the sand. The waves were lazy little swells in charcoal grey water beneath a cloudy sky. He couldn’t smell rain on the air or see any forbidding clouds, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if they showed up at some point.

He stripped down to his swim shorts and tied back his hair with an elastic. This was one of few situations where he missed his short hair. The long hair could be such a pain to deal with wet. So much of the rest of the time, though, he just wanted the scars on his face and neck covered. He could have hidden them with a glamor spell, but it would have been draining to hold indefinitely and, as much as the former egomaniac in him loathed to admit it, he didn’t have the Power to hold a glamor indefinitely and still have ready access to his usual store of magic if he needed it.

As he walked to the water’s edge, the sand shifted under his feet. That was another thing he’d liked about Maine. Rocky beaches. He’d always hated sand.

The water was frigid, but he refused to be daunted as he waded into it, as his skin pebbled with gooseflesh and his flesh crept under it, seeking warmth from within. He shuddered as his balls retreated almost up into his body and might have worried about the long-term effects of the cold if he’d ever considered risking placing a child in the same mess he was in. Now was not the time to think about said mess, though.

As he sank into the cold water, the Power shuddered along with the rest of him and bubbled up his body and into his head like it thought it could escape the cold. He shut his eyes and slipped beneath the waves, instantly smothering the hum. Peace settled over him and he began to swim.


	6. Date Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that I published this chapter at the same time as chapter five, "Withdrawal." Make sure you are up-to-date! And, because I'm apparently a writer who finishes smut scenes weeks before the dates scenes they start with, the next chapter will be up very soon and will earn the Explicit rating. ;)

I locked up the tea room at four as usual, but there was a quirk of a smile at the corner of my mouth I couldn’t seem to smother. When I turned and caught Bucky glaring at me from his perch atop the bookcase, I glared right back at him. “You’re just jealous because you’re not going on a date tonight.”

Bucky grumbled and curled into a very large, hairy ball.

Cleaning up The Hatter’s at the end of the day usually took about an hour and today was no exception. At ten to five, I locked up the cash in the safe that resided in the back corner of the kitchen and discarded my apron, ready to head upstairs.

My apartment was very small and bare, mostly because I shared it with no one. I had no friends or family who were close enough to earn a photograph on my wall, no gifts decorating my coffee table or bookcase, no odd things laying around that I didn’t want to touch because they belonged to a roommate, family member, or lover. Five years ago, Dan and I came to Ipswich with one carload of stuff and I had collected very few objects since.

Dan liked things. All of his possessions, which were hidden in plastic totes in a storage closet in The Hatter’s, had their own individual emotional significances to him. I was not the same way, preferring to place value on intangible things like sensory details and feelings. It was a dangerous way to look at the world, I discovered. After Dan died, nothing had meaning anymore and I didn’t even have comforting objects around me to make me feel safe. I found myself falling into a void faster and faster.

I’d had tattoos since I was eighteen, much to my father’s chagrin, but after Dan died, I added so many more, weaving them together like I was braiding a line to save me from my fall into the void. And, because I saw them every day, because they were a never-changing, never-leaving constant, it worked. I crawled back out and I didn’t need any material object to do it.

I put the kettle on for one cup of caffeine before my date with Sebastian, then proceeded to my bedroom and the tiny closet within, listening closely for the whistle of the kettle. I had a small wardrobe, but I had a few unique items that I had gathered based on how much of my tattoos they revealed. I had only three dresses, for instance, but each one had different lengths, different necklines, and different sleeves. When the Ipswich Chamber of Commerce held that gala last winter, I’d worn my long-sleeved, high-collared, sheath dress with the purple roses on it because I knew that I would be taken more seriously at that event if people couldn’t see the tattoos. For dates, I preferred to show them off a bit, though that had not always worked in my favor.

The kettle began to whistle and I returned to the kitchen to prepare my tea, settling on a blend of Vienna breakfast I’d fallen in love with. As the tea steeped, I considered what the dress code was for the evening. If Sebastian’s flirting was anything to go by, he’d be taking me somewhere nice enough that a bottle of rich red wine and a chocolate dessert were on the menu. That situation certainly suggested a dress. As for the tattoos…

I thought back to that first day when I’d rolled up my sleeves and let him turn my arms over under his eyes so he could study my tattoos. _Study_ them.

Decision made.

I carried the tea around the apartment with me as I cleaned up a bit, changed into the dress, added some extra makeup, and brushed my hair out of its braid. Loose it nearly hit my waist and I liked it that way and, since Sebastian had only ever seen it knotted into a braid, I wanted to show it off. I dragged a wet brush through it until the kinks from the braid faded, then blow-dried it until it lay straight and smooth over my shoulders. Straight like this, I knew that my hair looked that much longer and healthier and, moreover, that the reflecting light turned the strawberry color into rose gold.

I finished off my cup of tea, then turned slowly in front of the full-length mirror which hung on the back of the bedroom door. I’d dug out my favorite pair of black boots, which worked nicely with where the hem of the dress lay two inches above my knee. The dress itself was black with shadows of roses in the dark fabric. A brass zipper that caught the eye ran from my upper back all the way down to the lower curve of my ass, suggesting to every guy in the room that one zip would expose just about everything. The sleeves were mere caps on my shoulders that were more decorative than useful, though they did manage to cover my bra straps sufficiently while leaving ninety-five percent of my tattooed arms visible. The dress had a sweetheart neckline that made it very clear that wearing an apron every day didn’t do my assets justice. I wore no jewelry because jewelry was one of those things that was supposed to mean something and the only pre-existing emotions I wanted to bring with me tonight were the tattoos on my skin.

Right on schedule, I applied a bit of perfume and locked up, descending to The Hatter’s where I’d told Sebastian to find me. I unlocked the front door and was halfway to turning on a light so he would know I was there when there was a knock. I turned back around and, unable to smother a smile, opened the door.

My first impression was that he looked distracted and nervous, but when we locked eyes, I was able to watch the way the tension seeped from him. I couldn’t remember ever having a guy be this into me. Certainly not a guy like this. Sebastian cleaned up nice, dressed in black jeans that made me eager to ogle his ass and a midnight blue button-down that made his eyes look stormy. His hair was parted slightly to the side of center, which better exposed the right side of his face and better hid the left, clearly intentional. It made me wonder if he’d ever worn his hair short, since the lines of his face were too damn gorgeous in that slightly dangerous way to hide the way he liked to. He gave a slow smile as his eyes raked over me, not missing the way I was checking him out even as he drank in every inch of me. “Hey beautiful,” he said in that velvet voice. “I’m almost disappointed that we’re going out and not to your place. It’s going to be very hard to sit across a table from you when you’re looking like that.”

A blush rose in my cheeks, probably too strong to be hidden entirely under my makeup. I took a step towards him, and, despite the tiny flinch he couldn’t stop, I pushed his hair back enough to whisper in his left ear, inches from his scars, “Well, maybe if you’re a good boy we can go to my place after.”

He groaned and it went right to my core, bringing on all sorts of images of what else might pull that particular sound from him. “That’s cruel, baby. Let’s go before you can torture me any further.”

I laughed and followed him out, locking up The Hatter’s and then following him along the harbor walk.

We ended up at Crystal Waves, which had a second level with a stunning view of the harbor. Sebastian had reserved us a table, saving us from the forty-five minute wait, and it was even a table for two right alongside one of the massive windows. From there, we could see all of the fishing boats and yachts as they tooled around the harbor, docking for the night, as well as the seagulls ducking and weaving around them, hunting for forgotten bits of food and litter. The harbor was a tiny inlet with only a narrow passage out to open ocean, but from here we could see right through that passage to the teaming sea beyond. “This is fantastic,” I said to Sebastian.

“I told you,” he said as a waiter arrived with a bottle of wine. “Only the best.”

The waiter opened the bottle and presented test-tastes to both of us. Sebastian swirled his like he’d done this a thousand times. Maybe he had. I sipped mine, then promptly sipped the rest, holding it on my tongue and soaking it up, analyzing and memorizing the flavor. When I swallowed, still reveling in the rich complexity and the balance of boldness to sweetness, and focused my eyes once more, I found Sebastian watching me and smirking just slightly. To the waiter, he said, “It’s perfect.” The waiter poured two full glasses, then left the bottle and cork.

“How did you know?” I asked, taking another indulgent sip.

That little smile turned into a full smirk. “You eat chocolate and drink tea. I knew you needed a dark red and you could handle something dry, but not too dry. One look at their wine list when I made the reservation and I knew which one would fit the bill.”

I took another sip of the wine. “I’m thinking this particular bottle is worth a whole lot more than a cup of tea. Probably ten times more.”

His steel blue eyes sparkled. “Call it an investment.”

I snorted at that, but couldn’t help smiling right back.

It was a short menu based in seasonal local cuisine. When I noted the prices and silently raised an eyebrow at Sebastian, he made the same face right back like he was meeting my concern like it was a dare and he was not afraid to perform. I knew very little about Sebastian, but I did know that he could fit in front of a fireplace drinking tea like he owned the place and he knew wines like I knew tea. He came from money and he apparently still had it if his commitment to spoiling me was any indication.

I took another long look at the menu and closed it, meeting his gaze again. “I’ll bite. I have never in my life been spoiled this way by a man. I’m not one to pass up opportunities.”

Sebastian gave me a pleased smile and extended his right hand across the table. Was he right-handed or did he do everything with his right hand because of the scars on his left? I took the offered hand without hesitation and his thumb stroked a smooth line along the side of my hand. “Neither am I, which is why we’re here. It’s been a long time since a woman let me spoil her and I’ve never been out with one as deserving of it as you, so thank you for indulging me.”

I smiled, touched by the words. To lighten things, I raised my wineglass with my free hand and said, “Well, thank you for indulging me.”

His smile widened and, with his free hand, he raised his own glass in a toast. “To indulgences.”

Who could possibly turn that one down? I toasted him and we both drank. A moment later, the waiter returned. Sebastian gestured to me to order first and I did, selecting the scallops. For himself, Sebastian chose the lamb. When the waiter had gone, I commented, “I don’t think I’ve ever had lamb. I’ve heard it’s difficult to cook.”

“It is,” he said, “But a well-cooked lamb is worth trying a dozen poorly-cooked ones to find.”

“You spend a lot of time in fancy restaurants, don’t you?”

“I do,” he admitted. “I travel a lot and I inherited money I’m not going to be able to ever spend, so I don’t limit myself when there are extra comforts available.”

“Inherited? From a grandparent? Godparent?”

“Adoptive parents,” he said, looking down at our hands, which, I realized, were still folded together. Noticing that gave me no incentive to change that fact. “They were killed in an accident when I was eighteen.” At my open-mouthed reaction, he met my gaze again. “We weren’t close. I think I told you the other day that they had a habit of expecting too much and yet refusing to accept me like a biological son. And I was of age, so I didn’t have to go into the system and I inherited the money, so I didn’t have to worry about getting on by myself. It’s okay, really.”

“No other family?”

Another tight smile. “No one close enough to maintain contact with.”

I shrugged and said bitterly, “That bit’s me too. I’m an island here and, most of the time, it’s not so bad. The best part is that I don’t have to care what they think. I’d probably have more bruises than tattoos if my dad saw the current state of my arms.”

Sebastian’s eyes darkened and his jaw hardened. “Do you mean that?”

A part of me was worried about him already being protective of me because I knew that there was a fine line between protective and possessive, but another part of me really liked it. No man had ever been protective of me because he cared about me and the thought that Sebastian could fit that bill was very alluring. “He has given me bruises before. I wouldn’t put it past him. There’s no reason he’d ever find out, though. I haven’t seen or heard from him since Dan’s funeral and I don’t expect to. There are plenty of scars in our relationship, but nothing that would be worth making contact over.”

Sebastian swallowed hard and I watched his eyes move to my tattoos, specifically to _not today_. He squeezed my hand gently and said, “I don’t like the thought of someone hurting you, especially someone who’s supposed to take care of you.”

“I think everyone does that at some point, intentionally or not. I’ve said some pretty cruel things to exes during break-up fights.”

“And I bet they said cruel things too. That’s not the same.” He thought for a long time and, because I could practically see the gears turning, I let him. Finally, he said softly, “I’ve hurt people. People who didn’t deserve it. I don’t like how afraid I am that one day I could hurt you too.”

Red flags went up all over inside my head, but not all of them were for my own protection. Some were for his. I frowned and squeezed his hand to make him look at me. He only did for a moment, then looked out the window unseeingly, like he was ashamed of what I might see in him. What I did see in that brief moment was guilt and regret. “Sebastian,” I said. “When was the last time you hurt someone intentionally?”

“Five years ago.”

“Five years ago, I was a completely different person and I bet you were too. People change. And I’m not as fragile as I look.”

He eyed me then and a fraction of a smile graced his lips. “Well, you’re dressed to kill tonight.”

I smirked. “The strawberry hair probably throws off whatever edge I have, though.”

“God damn, though,” he said softly, “I do love your hair.”

Our food arrived then, saving me from having to work up a reply to that. I loved my hair, but I hadn’t been complimented on it since I was a little girl trying to be cute while stumbling through ballet lessons. One gem of a guy I’d dated had even told me I looked ‘cute but naïve’ because of it, despite knowing that my brother was dead and I owned a business. Naïve was something I was not.

The scallops were divine and reminded me of home, where scallops were also common fare. Upon determining that the lamb was indeed cooked perfectly, Sebastian insisted I try it. “Oh my god,” I said. “I’m not a red meat person, but that is amazing.”

“Told you,” he said, turning back to his dish.

By the time we’d finished, leaving clean plates and no leftovers, we were also on our final glasses of wine with an empty bottle between us. I eyed the empty bottle as I sipped at my wine with no small amount of trepidation. “So, I can never tell if I’m drunk until I try to stand up. I don’t suppose you noticed the proof of that wine?”

Sebastian snorted and reached across the table to take a long sip from my glass before returning it to me. I raised an eyebrow at him stealing my wine, even out of gallantry, but he just smiled. “I’m sure you’re fine. If not, I was planning on walking you to your door either way.”

I smirked at him. “Such a gentleman. Here’s the real question, though. What does the dessert menu look like here?”

He grinned. “It won’t disappoint. I would not have chosen this place otherwise.”

A few minutes later, the waiter returned and, eyes on me, Sebastian smiled and ordered a chocolate lava cake. Completely unbidden, my eyes went wide and, unbeknownst to Sebastian or anyone else, my resolve instantly crumbled and I was hot and needy, definitely happy that he intended to walk me all the way to my door and, hopefully, right on through it. When the waiter had disappeared again, Sebastian dealt me a panty-dropping smile, eyes molten, and took my hand across the table again, this time to draw teasing circles in my palm. “A date isn’t a date without a good dessert.”

“I’ll second that,” I said.

The lava cake was absolutely sinful, impossibly rich, perfectly baked, and warm all the way through. There was a raspberry coolie drizzled over it with raspberries dotting the edges of the plate that Sebastian kept snatching and dipping in the chocolate lava. I was too focused on the cake itself to be too bothered with the raspberries, though I acknowledged their value in offsetting the richness. By the time we had scraped the last of the chocolate from the plate, Sebastian watching me with a smirk that I shot a joking glare at him for, I was definitely drunk and it had little to do with the alcohol.

I was drunk on him, on this night, on this dinner, on his willingness and insistence on treating me like a queen, on how well he seemed to already know me, on the things he’d been willing to share about himself that I hadn’t expected from him. I trusted him, I more than liked him, and I wanted to keep him. He said he was only in town for a short while, but with the way he’d been looking at me all night, I had a hopeful feeling that I could convince him to extend his stay. Either way, I had him now and, as I’d told him earlier in the evening, I hated to miss opportunities.

He paid with a card without looking at the check and signed the slip with his hand in the way of me reading it. He snuck it into the waiter’s book, then stood and offered his hand to me. I stood slowly, wary of my possible inebriated state, but I was apparently sober enough not to be dizzy or clumsy, a fact which made me smile at as I confidently took Sebastian’s hand and walked with him out of Crystal Waves. As we walked down the cobblestone street, Sebastian looked down at my feet and watched me walk for a short time, then chuckled. “For some reason, I didn’t take you for a high-heels woman, but here you are on cobblestones wearing three-inch stiletto boots and not missing a step.”

I laughed. “Don’t jinx me. If I do miss a step, I’ll be spraining an ankle for sure.”

Sebastian gave a long-suffering sigh and said, “Well, we can’t have that.” Before I had a chance to react, he swept me off my feet and was carrying me in both arms, not missing a single step. I squeaked in surprise, then started laughing at the smirk on his face, which made him laugh too. He followed my directions and carried me all the way to the alley beside The Hatter’s, where he set me down on solid pavement. I turned to face him, enveloping myself in his arms, and smirked. “My hero.”

I kissed him

It was slow and sweet and soft, like molten chocolate. Decadent, comforting, warming. His lips were soft and gentle on mine, his arms wrapping warm around me as his hands splayed over my shoulder and hair. I could feel his fingers sliding through my hair and I was glad I’ve worn it down as he absorbed the way it felt in his hand. My lungs were collapsing and my knees were weak, but I didn’t care at all, choosing to lock my hands behind his neck to hold myself upright. It was the best damn kiss I’d ever had and there wasn’t even tongue.

When I pulled away, we were both short of breath and looking at each other through hooded eyes. His pupils were blown wide, turning his eyes dark with desire, and his lips were parted as he struggled to breathe.

I wasn’t done with him. Not even close. And, judging from the slow smile curling up one corner of his mouth, he wasn’t done with me either.

I loosened my hands and stepped backwards out of his arms, smiling as I gripped his hands and tugged just slightly. “Can I make you a cup of tea?”

His smile widened into a crooked grin, his eyes never leaving mine. “Please.”


	7. Date Night Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm earning this work's rating with this chapter, but if you're a fan of Chase, I suspect that this is exactly what you were waiting for. And despite the angst, this will not be the only smut in this work. Oh no, I am not done with this lovely couple.

He followed Ember up the wrought iron stairwell, both of them laughing and stumbling as they raced up the steps, still hand-in-hand. Ember half-fell against the apartment door and, as she struggled to find her key, Chase wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek, her neck, her jaw, hungry for more of her, whatever he could reach. When he tugged on her earlobe with his teeth, she whimpered and finally shoved the door open. As they stumbled into the dark apartment, she spun around and slammed him against the now-closed door, hands in his hair and gripping his shoulder, mouth on his fast and fierce. Her vigor emboldened him and he ran his hands down her sides to her hips, then trailed them along her lower back, sorely tempted to take hold of her lovely ass. He pressed her tight to his chest, loving the feel of her warmth and softness against him, loving her breasts pressed to his muscles. He hadn’t touched a girl, or anyone for that matter, in five years and his skin hummed in pleasure at the novelty of it.

They broke apart in the same moment, laughing. Ember released him and turned on a nearby lamp as she retreated into the apartment. It was small and had the same original flooring and exposed brick that The Hatter’s did, and, like The Hatter’s, she’d given it the right minimalist touches to make it inviting. The kitchen was small and mostly bare, but a purple tea kettle sat on the gas stove and a long line of colorful tea canisters decorated the top edge of the cupboards. There was a wood-burning fireplace in the living area that shared a chimney with the one in The Hatter’s and a grey couch facing it, a coffee table between them with a large orange candle in the middle and a laptop tossed on one corner. An overflowing bookcase sat in the corner of the room with a lamp beside it displaying, among other titles, a vast Stephen King collection. Being from Maine, the same state King was from, he wondered if she had any signed copies. If not, she needed one. Two ajar doors seemed to lead to a bathroom and bedroom, though both rooms were dark.

Ember lit a burner on the stove and placed the kettle over it, then she fished two mugs out of a cupboard. They were both shaped like cat’s heads and when she held them up, she asked, “Black or brown?”

As if it were a question. He smiled crookedly and leaned on the counter near her. “Well, the brown one kinda looks like Bucky, so you should have that one. Besides, I’m kind of a black cat type.”

“Mysterious…I do like that about you,” Ember said with a teasing smirk. “Alright, then.”

She made the tea while he watched. It was an Irish toddy, she said, Irish breakfast tea with Bailey’s and Jameson. When he asked whether it was a good idea to be drinking breakfast tea this late at night, she gave him a scorching smile, took an indulgent sip of her toddy, and said, “I’m not planning on sleeping anytime soon.”

He very nearly dropped his mug and she must have noticed, he’d been learning that she noticed everything, but her smile didn’t falter. She only leaned towards him and gave him one slow kiss on the lips over their tea. Then, she made for the living area, her hand on his to drag him behind her. He helped her light the fire and the candle on the coffee table, which was supposedly a fall woods scent that he did like quite a bit. It smelled fresh, cool, and light, like taking a walk outside on a fall morning, stepping over puddles from a light rain and dancing around fallen leaves.

When the fire was roaring, they sat together on the couch and talked quietly. What little of him had been sober before the toddy quickly faded, along with the buzzing of the Power which had been trying to intrude on his thoughts all night, and he was laughing as freely as she was. When he finished his toddy, he set the empty mug carefully on the coffee table, then settled back on the couch with an arm around Ember’s shoulders. She smelled warm and fresh and safe in the same way that tea was warm and fresh and safe. Her breath smelled of tea and whiskey and when he kissed her, that was what she tasted like with an underlying hint of chocolate and red wine. He was more drunk on her than on the alcohol, loving the way she made him feel. When he was with her, he didn’t have scars, he knew she wouldn’t laugh at anything he did or said unless he’d planned for her to, she didn’t expect things of him, she just enjoyed what he gave her. He felt like he could relax and be himself with her and like he could trust that she would accept who he was and even like him for it. It was so little to ask for, but it was so rare and it meant the damn world.

He teased her lower lip with his tongue and she let him in, their tongues dancing slowly. She tasted so damn good and the kiss felt so damn good rippling down his spine. She sighed and he heard her set down her mug on the coffee table, then her hands were on him, pulling him tight against her. He ran his hands up and down her back, tracing the path of the brass zipper that had been driving his imagination mad all night, kissing her harder. When she moaned quietly, the sound went right to his core and then he was plundering her mouth, his fingers tangling in her hair to hold her close. After a moment, it occurred to him that he was maybe going too fast or too rough, but then Ember twisted and, as she fell back on the couch, she pulled him down over her. He managed to catch himself on his elbows and keep right on kissing her and, when they’d found the right spot where they fit against each other, she snuck one leg out and wrapped it around his waist. The move dragged a groan out of him immediately as his brain processed in a moment that she was very into this, that he was now pressed right up against her core, that her dress was now hiked up to her hips, and that she was much more flexible that he might have guessed. 

Chase gripped the back of her bare thigh and when he indulged himself by digging his fingertips into the soft, smooth flesh, Ember sighed and ground her core once against him, encouraging him. He groaned in turn at the way her body felt rubbing against his zipper and he was kissing her impossibly harder, faster, as his free hand explored her limbs. From her thigh it slid to her knee, pulled her leg up against their bodies, then moved farther to grip her calf. Then his hand came up to the back of her knee, pressing her down into the couch, pressing her leg against his ribs, analyzing exactly how flexible her beautiful joints were. He used to live for flexible girls, loved the way they’d bend and contort as he made them his. Ember? Oh, she could do all those things and more if his hands were telling the truth, but it wouldn’t be because he was claiming her. 

He couldn’t do that. Not anymore. Not to her.

Her hand slipped under his shirt and up his chest. Ripples of unease followed her fingers as they passed over the ridges of his scars and he stiffened automatically. Those scars had not been touched since he left the hospital. Even he had been loath to touch them, changing the dressings twice without touching the flesh and then giving up on it, refusing to touch them ever. He knew it was part of why the scars were so ugly, that he hadn’t let them heal properly and that he’d refused the expensive cosmetic operations the doctors had offered because he didn’t want their hands on him. It took him a moment to realize that Ember had gone still as well and, when he opened his eyes, he found her staring up at him, eyes wide with honesty, pupils blown with lust, cheeks flushed, hair messed from being pressed into the couch. Without her gaze wavering at all, she smoothed her hands over the scars on his chest and side, completely unintimidated, acting as if it were mildly interesting but nothing more. “Do you trust me?” she whispered.

His jaw locked into place. That question put Chase immediately on the defensive because he knew he was not worthy of her trust. He did trust her, though, even if it gave her an advantage over him. “I do.”

“Show me.”

He knew what she wanted and for a long time, he didn’t move, trying to decide what to do. Finally, he sat up off her and, holding her eyes the whole time, began unbuttoning his shirt. Even when he finished and parted the shirt, even when he dragged it off his arms and set it on the coffee table, her eyes were on his. When it was done, she slowly sat up too and kissed his cheek. Into his hair, she whispered, “I trust you too.”

The words gutted him, but he barely had time to think about that before she was standing between his knees. She was very slowly pulling down the zipper he’d been thinking about all evening, the one that opened the back of the dress from her shoulders all the way down to the lower curve of her ass. The whole time, she continued to hold his gaze fearlessly, wantonly. She had gorgeous bedroom eyes, so dark and wide, her eye makeup heavy tonight and adding to the effect, the tiniest glow of light in her brown eyes that screamed _fuck me._ He couldn’t help but reach out to tease at her thighs with his fingertips as she finished unzipping, then pulled the cap sleeves off one at a time. And then, she was pushing the dress down her body, down past her purple lace bra, down past the tattoos that disappeared under her bra and trailed down her ribs, down to her hips where the straps of a matching purple thong appeared, then off altogether. As the dress dropped, his eyes raked over her body, her lovely form, the art she wore on her skin…

And, covering and surrounding her left hip, burn marks.

There were dozens of them. Fucking dozens. Little, round burns so bad they’d scarred like he’d been scarred. He knew that size and shape, knew that they were fucking _cigarette burns._ Some _bastard_ had put _dozens _of cigarette burns on this beautiful woman. And though tattoos swirled down her right side along her hip, they did not come close to the left. Had she not wanted her tattoo artist to see the burns? Or had she chosen not to cover them?

“Everyone knows about my brother. Everyone. That’s why I told you the first time we met, because I’ve gotten used to being the girl with the dead brother. But you don’t see me that way, you never have. Which is why I don’t mind you being one of the only people in the world who sees me this way.” His eyes were still locked on the burns, trying to decide whether she’d done them herself or if there was some monster out there he needed to rip apart. Her father? She’d admitted he left bruises on her. Even if she’d done the burns herself, someone had made her feel lousy enough to cause her to do it. Ember broke him from his murderous thoughts when she placed her hand over his and slid it up her leg so his fingers splayed over the scars. They rippled strangely like his own scars, but these were so small and defined that it felt like little rings laying under her skin creating craters. When she released his hand, he found himself tracing along each little scar with gentle yet fearless fingers. Finally, he couldn’t help it anymore. He leaned forward, holding her there with one hand on her lower back and the other on her hip, and kissed her scars one-by-one. She gasped and her hands gripped his shoulders, her right hand not flinching from the scarring that took up his entire left arm and chest and consumed the side of his neck. Just as he didn’t feel her hand on his scarred shoulder viscerally, only emotionally, so he knew she felt his kiss on her hip. So, he kept kissing her, over and over, one burn at a time. She was shaking in his arms soon and, impulsively, he said against her skin, “My name is Chase.”

She laughed once, not the reaction he’d expected at all, then said in an indulgent voice, “It does suit you better than Sebastian. Hm. I suppose it’ll be easier to scream later, won’t it? Fewer syllables.”

He fell back against the couch in amazement, accidentally tugging her forward into his lap, and then they were both laughing quietly, wrapped around each other. Soon, laughing turned into heated looks and kisses, then wandering hands and mouths. Chase had barely registered the change and he was sprawled on the couch with Ember laying over him, kissing all up and down his chest, paying extra attention to the edges of his scars. He could barely see straight it felt so good to have her mouth on his skin and his mind raced with thoughts of what it would feel like to have her mouth on other parts of him. When Ember nipped at his pec, a ripple went down his spine and he wound his fingers into her hair and tugged as hard as she’d bitten. She jolted and soothed the skin with her tongue, then bit down again, a little harder this time. Chase pulled her hair hard enough to make her look at him and found the same crooked grin on her face that was on his. Using his hand in her hair, he pulled her up him to whisper against the corner of her mouth, “Do you have claws, kitten?”

As her answer, she dug every one of her fingernails into his flesh wherever they happened to be. One hand was on his good shoulder and one was on his lower abdomen, which meant that a few of those nails cut into skin sensitive enough to make him nervous. She licked his upper lip, then chuckled and said, “I’m not a kitten, baby. I’m a tiger.”

He couldn’t help the groan that escaped him at those words or how fiercely he kissed her after they were uttered. He couldn’t help standing up a few minutes later with his arms around Ember’s bare back and almost bare ass and carrying her to her bedroom. The bedroom was small, but neat with nothing to trip over, a fact for which he was grateful. The bed was probably only a full size jammed into the little space, but he didn’t give a shit. He didn’t intend to let her keep one side of the bed to herself anyway. 

Chase fell with her onto the bed in the dim moonlight and kissed her feverishly as she wrapped her legs, boots and all, tight around his waist. His hands were all over her and hers were all over him and he wanted to fix the fact that there were parts of them covered in clothing right now. He pushed her further up the bed so they were both fully on it, then focused on getting his shoes and jeans off. He knew he’d have a hard time caring about that if her bra came off first, so it was a priority. While he kicked off his shoes and struggled with his belt, he kept his eyes on Ember, who was gazing right back at him like it was a challenge, laughing the whole damn time. Either she’d noticed his fascination with her flexibility or she just knew how damn sexy it was because she was purposely stretching each leg up above her as she unzipped her boots, exposing her purple thong and the underside of her thigh and ass each time she did it. As she pulled off the second boot and tossed it to the floor, he realized that his own movements had stalled and she giggled as she hooked her foot around his hip and tugged him towards her. He was noticing a pattern of her dragging him places, but he couldn’t help going wherever she called him. Long ago, he would have seen that as a dominance issue and been put off by it, but he couldn’t care less now, not after everything, not with this girl. He scrambled to get his socks and jeans off while watching her very slowly divest herself of her bra and thong, making a strip-show of it. This girl had mountains of confidence, or at least she did when she was with him. Her breasts were lovely and her tattoos curved around their undersides in a way that accentuated them magnificently. The neatly-trimmed curls between her legs were more blond than the strawberry of her hair. Between the view of her incredible naked body and those dark bedroom eyes piercing him, he didn’t manage to get his boxer briefs off before he’d dropped to the bed and buried his face between her thighs, placing kisses on her inner thighs, her mound, her lips. 

She immediately cried out and fell back on the bed, wrapping her legs around his head and digging her heels into his shoulder blades. Fuck, she smelled good, sweet and heady with arousal with just a hint of something floral that must have been in her bath soap. Years ago, he would have drawn this out, made her beg for it, but now he wanted to taste her too bad and wanted to please her, make her scream his name. He kissed her until she was moaning, then gave her what she wanted, his tongue on her. He licked at her lips, at her clit, which was already swollen with want. She whimpered and moaned, her hands going to his head to twist into his hair. He hadn’t really had occasion before to think about the fact that his hair being long meant it was convenient for a girl to pull on during sex the way _he_ liked to pull hair, but it was pretty hot to have that burn in his scalp and that bit of force holding him down on her. He dipped his tongue inside her…fuck she tasted as good as she smelled…and she screamed once before choking it off. He explored her with his tongue, drinking her in, teasing her inside until he found _that spot_ and she screamed his name. “Chase! Oh fuck…fuck, Chase, please…do that again…oh fuck.” He obliged, again and again, pushing her ever faster to that edge. He was gripping her gorgeous ass with both hands to hold her to him and when she came close, he brought one hand between her legs to stroke her clit with his thumb as he stroked her G-spot with his tongue. She screamed again and again, the pitch rising as she came higher and higher, then she went rigid and silent, her hands ripping at his hair as her muscles pulsed around him. He could feel her coming on his lips and tongue and it was so damn hot to have that up close.

Finally, she released him and he extricated himself from her limbs, hurrying to rid himself of his boxer-briefs while she was focused on her breathing. He was rock-hard and aching, desperate for relief, so turned on by her orgasm that he was throbbing. He crawled up the bed and laid over her, nuzzling her cheek. He didn’t know if she’d object to kissing him after where his tongue had been, but that was all the prompting she needed to kiss him needily, her tongue slipping into his mouth to tangle with his. And fuck he was glad because she kissed like she was all-in, the way she lived her life, and he loved that zeal. It felt infectious.

As they kissed, he rolled his hips to grind against her core and she shuddered, then returned the motion, leaving him one step short of a whimper. “Condom?” he asked breathlessly. It wasn’t really something he carried after so many years of being unwanted.

“No need,” she gasped. “I’m clean and on the pill.”

“Same.”

She snorted and he felt her grin against his mouth. “You’re on the pill?”

His next words fell out and he regretted them instantly. “If that happened, I’d take care of you.”

She stilled and for a second he thought she’d throw him out of her bed, but then she kissed his cheek. “Nothing’s going to happen, but I’m so glad it’s you here with me.”

Warmth rushed through him and, for the first time in his life, sex wasn’t about sex. He genuinely wanted it as a connection with her, an emotional one. He wanted the physical affirmation of her trust in him, wanted a piece of her soul in him, wanted to look into her eyes as they joined their bodies. Was he falling in love with her? Maybe. And, knowing that Caleb might kill him tomorrow, he was pretty okay with that.

He kissed her lips slow and sweet, then whispered, “I haven’t been with anyone since my scars, didn’t think I’d ever have this again, and I’m so damn glad it’s you.”

Ember kissed him back, slow and sweet, until he began to rock against her again. Then her muscles tightened up, her legs wrapped around his waist, and the kiss became more forceful. Finally, she began to moan and whimper and he was groaning, feeling her warmth and wetness against him. He pulled back from the kiss far enough that he could see her face, watched her open her eyes lazily, then pushed inside her. Her lips parted in a quiet gasp and his did the same as her tightness enveloped him and as her pupils dilated to consume her irises. He went slow and deep, pushing all the way in to the hilt as her back arched and pressed her chest into his, until her heels dug into his back. Then, he began to move, first slow and tender, then faster, drunk on the feel of her pressing in around him, the look in her eyes, her hands gripping his shoulders. They kissed fiercely, hungrily, and he moved faster, rocking harder against her, and she was rocking her hips to meet him. 

“Unhook your ankles,” he growled to her. She did immediately and he gripped the backs of her knees, bent her legs up to her shoulders, and pressed her into the bed as he pounded into her, so much deeper now with the new angle. She was moaning and cursing now, more than okay with having her body stretched that way and with his roughness. After half a dozen thrusts, she met his eyes and, watching his reaction, twisted her legs and locked her ankles behind his neck. The angle intensified and the demonstration of her flexibility was so fucking hot that he was groaning and moaning right with her. Their hands were within inches of each other on the bed and she closed that distance, sneaking her hands under his on a thrust and intertwining their fingers. That sent a jolt right up his spine. If there was something he liked as much as a flexible girl, it was one who liked being held down. He adjusted their hands to pin hers near her head and she immediately began to writhe under him in ecstasy, rolling her hips to twist her core around his length. The motion made him see stars and he could feel the pressure building at the base of his spine that told him he wouldn’t last much longer. “Fuck, Ember…” he groaned. “I’m not going to last, baby.”

Ember gave him that smoldering smile and said, “That’s okay. I’ve got all night.”

All night. Fucking hell.

His hips stuttered and she felt it and rolled her hips slower, grinding against him, and pushed herself up to bite his neck softly. The combination of pain and pleasure immediately sent him over the edge and he couldn’t stop a shout of pleasure as he came, filling her and pulsing inside her.

When he came to, his face was buried in her neck and she was kissing his temple and stroking his back. Apparently, he’d released her hands somewhere in there. He became conscious of his weight on her and made an attempt at rolling gracefully off her and onto his side. He came close to graceful, close enough that she curled into his chest like he’d been perfect. He hadn’t been, but she’d been amazing. It was the best sex he’d ever had and, considering the magic he’d done to make his sex life more interesting back in the day, that was saying something. He was just about to say something when Ember said, “That was so damn hot.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

Not much later, Ember disappeared to retrieve a few damp washcloths and returned still naked. He dragged her to lie across his chest and she did, practically purring at the contact. They cleaned up and lounged like that for awhile before the kissing got heated again and then Ember was riding him, her hands pinning his now. He’d never been dominated by a woman before and wouldn’t have expected to like it, but fighting her to buck up into her, aching to run his hands over her bouncing breasts and the tattoos on her chest, her arms, and her hips sent ripples of pleasure through him. When he couldn’t bear it anymore, he rolled them over and pounded into her as she screamed. 

Later, what started as spooning became lazy spoon-sex that rather quickly progressed into him pressing her face-down into the mattress and fucking into her from behind as she screamed his name. When she got out from under his hands, he thought she’d intended to get the rest of him off her too, but instead she sat back on her knees, impaling herself deeper on him and taking charge of the pace. His hands wandered over her thighs and lower belly and she whimpered as they came close to her mound. Finally, losing patience with the teasing, she laid her hands over his, sliding one down between her legs to tease at her clit while she rocked up and down on him. His other hand she brought up to her neck and laid across her throat.

Really? He’d done it before, but never, ever had a girl ask for it.

His cock quivered inside her with lust and he wrapped his fingers around her throat, her hand still on his. He squeezed just hard enough that she could feel it, no more, and she whimpered and fucked him harder. He rubbed her clit faster and fucked up into her deeper as she met him with downstrokes. Soon, they were both moaning and shaking with desperation. Voice choppy with need, he said, “Ember, baby, I need more.”

“Yes,” she moaned. “Fuck me, Chase. Please.”

Chase retracted his hands and shoved her upper body down on the mattress again, but kept her hips locked to his. He gave her what she asked for and fucked her hard and fast as they both groaned and shook, until they came together. He wasn’t sure if he came from feeling her clench around him or if she came from feeling him come undone inside her, he only knew it was incredible and he wanted to make it happen again.

Before dawn they made love twice more, dozing and snuggling between each bout before inevitably needing another go and rolling over to a new position. Of the ones they tried, they found none they didn’t both like.

When grey light began to seep into the bedroom, Chase peered at it around Ember’s mountain of wild sex hair, then kissed her shoulder. “Babe? I seem to recall that you own a tea room. What time does it open?”

“Ah, fuck,” Ember said, giggling. “Normally I’d be up by four-thirty to prep everything.”

He eyed the light again and considered that it was late October and had been gloomy all week. “Well, I believe you’re running late. Do you have someone you can call in to help you?”

Ember chuckled and sat up in bed, stretching languorously as he watched. He could study her naked body forever. She raised an eyebrow at his staring, but he only smirked and she smirked back. “It’s just me, no employees. I’ll find a way to make it happen, though.”

As she eased out of bed and began collecting clean clothes from the dresser, he watched and, on impulse, said, “If you wanted, I could give you a hand. I wouldn’t know what the hell I’m doing, but I can follow directions.”

She turned to look at him with a beautiful blush on her cheeks and a soft smile. “Really? You don’t have to, I would never expect you to.”

She was still completely naked and he was aching to make her completely his. He sat up and crawled over to kiss her, soft and slow. Then, he whispered, “Seeing as I made you late, it’s the least I can do. Besides, I’m kind of hoping that being the one to get you all dirty means I can now be the one to get you all clean.”

A sly smirk curved her lips and she took his hand in hers, slipping it down between her legs. “I am all dirty, aren’t I?”

A chuckle escaped him and he kissed her very slowly as he curled his fingers and pressed one up inside her. She whimpered and gripped his shoulders with both hands. “Yeah, I did get you all dirty, baby. I have some ideas on how to fix that, though. Come on.”

They showered together and he fucked her up against the shower wall as her pleas for more echoed in the bathroom. It had been so long since a woman had screamed his name and he was completely drunk on it, pushing her further and further, coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of her to make her scream it again. As he chased her second in the shower with her legs wrapped around him and warm water sliding over their skin, he whispered in her ear, “I want to hear you scream my name, baby. Come on. Scream my name.”

And she did, over and over again.

By the time they were through, Ember was over an hour behind schedule and when they went down to The Hatter’s, she immediately transitioned into her “speed mode.” She did give him tasks to help with and he was glad to, including getting the fireplace going, warming up the soups, and shifting the stale baked goods to the display case and the back room. 

When he carried a small tray of scones to the back room, he found Bucky, who was much larger than he had initially realized, sitting perfectly erect in the middle of a work table. He raised an eyebrow at the cat, who appeared to be watching the tray. “I take it you’re a scone man?” he asked. Bucky, of course, did not reply, just kept staring at the scones with his huge brown eyes. Chase approached warily (he’d heard Maine Coons were large but this cat was definitely big enough to kick his ass) and set the tray on the table in front of Bucky. Bucky immediately crouched to inspect the scones, selected one, and snatched it in his mouth to carry to the edge of the table and drop on the floor, where it broke apart. Then, he plopped down to the floor and began enjoying his scone piece by piece.

Chase’s eyebrow was still raised, though a little higher now. He grabbed a scone of his own and bit into it as he left the back room. It was stale enough that he wouldn’t grab a second if something else was available, but certainly still good and probably amazing dipped in tea. He might have to make a habit of joining Bucky for free back room scones….

Except for the part where he would be hearing from Caleb today and the Sons of Ipswich would, in all probability, be killing him or at least driving him out of their territory. He wasn’t coming back.

That pulled him up short and his gut lurched.

“Babe? Chase?” He looked up to find Ember staring at him in concern. He had stopped dead in the doorway of the backroom. “Chase, what’s wrong?”

“I…” _what the fuck could he say?_ “Reality just hit. I…I’m supposed to talk to my contact today and…well…I don’t expect it to go well.”

Ember dropped the towel she was holding onto the counter and stepped forward slowly, moving into his space and wrapping her arms around him. Her warmth and her scent soothed him and he shut his eyes as she kissed his cheek. “Sometimes things don’t go the way we planned. Sometimes they suck a lot. But, eventually, life leads us to really great things that wouldn’t have happened if not for that unplanned, unwanted thing years ago. I miss my brother every day, but if he hadn’t died, I wouldn’t be here, with my own tea room, in a place I’ve come to love, holding a man I just had a really amazing night with.”

Chase wrapped his arms tight around her and buried his face in her hair, which was smooth and still just barely damp from the shower they’d shared. She smelled like her lavender soap and he’d used the same stuff, which meant he smelled like her, like she’d marked him as hers. He trusted her. He needed her. And she deserved some shred of honesty from him. “Ember…baby, if this doesn’t go well there won’t be a ‘years from now.’ Not for me.”

Ember stiffened, but didn’t let go of him or turn her head to look at him. “Chase…why are you in Ipswich?”

He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes tight enough that he saw white. “Because…fuck. I don’t want to scare you or upset you. You just met me a few days ago, you shouldn’t have to fuss over me.”

“Don’t be an idiot, you know it’s too late for that,” Ember said, pulling back enough to look him in the eye now. Her expression was strange and unreadable, like she was trying to keep him from seeing just how much this conversation was affecting her. “Tell me.”

Chase took a deep, rattling breath, the kind that meant he was having anxiety issues yet again. Either that or pneumonia, which he’d managed to land himself with last winter. He tried again and the second breath came a little easier. “I’m dying,” he said quietly. Ember’s jaw tightened and her eyes began to shine, but otherwise she remained stoic. “It’s not…curable. I came here because there may be some documents belonging to my biological family that would tell me how to prolong things, but my immediate family are all dead and my relatives that have the documents…well, they don’t like me much.”

Ember frowned deeply. “Caleb Danvers? The Sons of Ipswich and that lot?”

His world turned upside-down and he stared at her for a moment in shock before he collected himself. “How do you know that?”

Ember rolled her eyes. “Because Caleb and Pogue were dumb enough to be bitching about it in a bar the other night. They didn’t give me the details, just told me they had a relative in town that was after a family heirloom of some kind. They seemed to think you had done something horrible and unforgivable and for that reason, they didn’t want to help you.”

He was hardly in a position to argue with that. Instead, he sighed and shrugged. “They’re not wrong, honestly.”

Ember’s frown deepened. “But Caleb seemed…guilty. And sympathetic. I know they sought retribution…what did they do to you?”

He was again stunned. She hadn’t asked what he, Chase, had done to Caleb. She’d asked what Caleb had done to him. Why? “I…are you sure that’s what you want to know?” His hands were shaking by now and his skin was crawling with anxiety and he found himself tilting his head to send his hair forward and hide the scars on the side of his face and neck.

But she was smart, far smarter than him he had begun to see, and she caught the motion. Her eyes widened and her hands tightened on him. “Chase,” she whispered. “Tell me they didn’t give you those scars.”

His stomach began to roll and he found a teapot to stare at just over her shoulder. He didn’t like thinking about that and he didn’t like lying to Ember or withholding information from her. This whole conversation was going to make him sick. “They…well…yeah. It was Caleb.” He could hear Ember grinding her teeth in anger and he didn’t deserve it. Not one bit of it. So, he said, quietly, “I deserved what I got. I tried to kill him.”

Her hand was warm and soft when it stroked from his forehead under his hair and along the edge of the scars on his face. “Whatever you did, _I_ could kill Caleb for doing this to you. What was the fight about?”

Another complicated question that he wanted to answer honestly, but didn’t know if he could. Finally, he said, “Power. Our families have a lot of power and I thought I could force Caleb to give up his share of it to me. I was already dying then and I thought I could use it to save myself and I didn’t really care who I hurt in the process. I did a lot of things that gave Caleb every right to want me hurt or dead. When things got physical, I swung first, but it ended with me like this. I disappeared after that, Caleb actually thought I was dead, but I had to come back. Not for the power. I know that can’t help me now and I really couldn’t care less anymore. But I think the documents Caleb has might have information I can use to prolong my life. Problem is, he and the others have zero reason to trust me, much less give me something so valuable to the families. It’s information that I could use against them if I wanted to. I don’t, but they’re not going to believe that.”

“What do you think is going to happen today? Is Caleb your contact?”

He nodded, then rested his chin on her shoulder so he could smell her hair. The lavender was oh-so-soothing. “I think he’s going to refuse to help me. He might kill me, honestly, especially if the other Sons are there to push him on it. Caleb’s always been the good boy, always taking care of people. On his own, he might not help me, but he wouldn’t kill me. Pogue would kill me on sight. Reed too, he’s always been a hothead.”

Ember sighed and the sound again had anger in it. “I wish I could go with you.”

Chase stiffened at the thought. “That’s a bad idea. If the other Sons are there, it could be a powder keg. I don’t want you in the middle of that.”

She sighed again, then, hesitating, said, “I want to ask you something and I want you to tell me the truth if you can.”

_Dan. She’s going to ask about Dan._

“Chase, look at me.” He took a fortifying breath, then did as she asked. Her face was pale with distress, though over what part of the situation he couldn’t say. _What the fuck was he going to say?_ “Chase, do you know what happened to Dan?”

_Fuck. Motherfucking fuck. _She must have read something on his face because her jaw immediately set. Before she could draw her own conclusions, he answered. “I know what happened to him.”

“And it wasn’t an overdose.”

“It was not.”

“Was it murder?”

Was it? Had he done it in cold blood? Or had it been more complicated than that? “Depends on who you ask.”

“Do you know who did it?”

“Yes.”

Her hands tightened on him then, as if to keep him from backing away, and she raised her eyebrows. “Was it Caleb? One of the other Sons?”

His hands were shaking and he had broken out in a cold sweat. His heart and lungs were working in overdrive trying to keep his vitals in check. “It was a Son of Ipswich.”

“How do you know?”

_Fucking fuck_. His skin was crawling like legions of his beloved spiders were burrowing underneath it. “I was there when it happened.”

She nodded as if she’d expected that. Maybe she had. Maybe his eyes at the start of this conversation had given that away. “Are you going to tell me?”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

She stared at him for what felt like years. “If it was murder and he belongs behind bars or in the ground, I want to know so I can put him there. If it was an accident or a mistake, I don’t want to know. If that’s the case, he doesn’t need to atone for anything, but it would affect my relationship with him and I don’t want that.”

Warmth rushed through him, warmth and confusion and wariness. He thought carefully about his response, wanting to truly mean it, and finally said, “I know more than most people and I would tell you that it was not murder. People who know less would say that it was.”

Ember nodded slowly, still staring at him, studying him. A thousand years later, she said softly, “If Caleb kills you, I’m going to end him and the other Sons won’t be able to stop me. If you are safe, I want you to come back to me. I’m not done asking questions.” She thought for a moment more, then leaned in to kiss him once, very softly, on the lips. His breath evaporated like he’d never been kissed before and he committed that kiss to memory. Her lips brushed his as she whispered, “And I’m not done kissing you.”

Did he love her? In that moment, he was pretty damn sure he did. “I want to tell you the truth…about Dan…about everything. But there’s a lot that’s hard for me to talk about. Things the families forbid me to say…things I don’t want to relive that I’ve done or had done to me. I never expected to have to tell…I thought I’d die alone.”

She clutched him to her suddenly and buried her face in his neck. “Caleb will not kill you and he will not let the others do it either. You’re not dying today. And if you can’t prolong things or save yourself…I will be there.”

_I will be there. _Tears immediately burned his eyes and he was crushing her to him. “Fuck…I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve you.”

“Whatever you did back then, from what you’ve told me you’re clearly not that person anymore and who you are now does not deserve to die alone. If you had murdered my brother in cold blood, I don’t know if I’d feel differently. But knowing what I do right now, I don’t believe for one minute that you deserve to die alone and if I can be there for you I will. I promise.”

Fuck it all. “I’m falling in love with you.”

“And I think you are someone I could love. Very easily, in fact. But there are things I have to know.”

“I know. And you deserve those answers.”

She kissed him again then, this time for much longer. There were fucking tears in his eyes and his heart was stuttering from the stress of everything and he didn’t know much for sure anymore, but he did know that this might be the last time he kissed her. Before she could think to break the kiss, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, clutching her to him, and wound the fingers of his left hand into her beautiful strawberry hair. He kissed her back, just as soft and sweet as she’d kissed him. After what he’d told her and her response to it (_If you had murdered my brother in cold blood, I don’t know if I’d feel differently_), he expected her to pull away. She did hesitate, but then her fingers were clutching at his shirt and she was kissing him deeper and faster. His hands were shaking again and his breathing and his heartrate were fucked, but he backed her up to the counter until their hips were wedged together. Ember sighed and he parted his lips at the same time and they were drinking each other in, getting lost in each other. Her hands went to his shoulder and hair, holding him tight to her. As if he might break that kiss. He would die before he broke that kiss.

His shaking hands were all over her, committing every inch of her to memory, knowing he might never hold her again, this incredible woman who was so smart, so confident, so passionate, and so understanding. He used to have so much ambition and pride and would have looked right past her, but now…now she was all he wanted. He could spend the rest of his life helping out at her tea room, taking her out and spoiling her at dinner, drinking toddies in her tiny apartment in the evening, making love to her all night, insisting she take time off of work so they could travel together and see Cadillac Mountain again and a hundred other places. He wanted every minute of that he could get and he hated that he’d wasted so much of his life by Using and by hiding away the last five years when he could have had a life with her.

“Chase,” she whispered between kisses. “Chase, baby, you’re crying.”

A single self-deprecating laugh escaped him and the kiss stalled, but he leaned his forehead against hers and their noses brushed. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am.” She gave him one very gentle kiss that felt like a breath of oxygen. “I was just thinking…I wish it wasn’t like this. I wish I had all the time in the world to spend with you. I wish I _deserved_ to spend it with you.”

“Shh…” she murmured, stilling him. Her fingertips traced up and down his spine, sending comfort rippling along his nerves. “We’re not going to talk anymore about what either of us do or don’t deserve. Whatever any of us have done, we deserve to know what it feels like to be cared for. You just told me that you know more about my brother’s death than almost anyone, that you were physically there when it happened. I should hate you for that, for not saving him or for not giving information to the police that at least would have told me how he died. I don’t though. I don’t. Whoever you were then, however you were involved in all of that, you have treated me with more kindness than I have ever been granted. Hell, you’ve treated me like the sun in the sky. And for that, I do care for you very much and I do believe you’ve earned that.”

“Caleb would tell you I’m a manipulator and a monster.”

“Fuck Caleb,” she said harshly. Chase pulled back in surprise to look at her. Her jaw was like iron and her dark eyes were shining with ferocity. “I have seen him and the other Sons rip people apart who they deem threats and I have never trusted them as far as I could throw them. Even if he would have been right about that at one point, he wouldn’t be now. That’s not you.”

That was not true. Not at all. Chase cradled her face in his hands, thumbs tracing her petal-soft cheeks. Looking into those fierce and intelligent eyes, he whispered, “Ember. You told me about Dan when we first met and I didn’t say a word about what I know. Even worse, I pursued you anyway, knowing I had information that you had a right to and that I was keeping from you. That is manipulative. You wouldn’t care for me at all if you had known that upfront.”

Ember raised an eyebrow at him in a challenge. Her brows were a shade darker than her hair and he realized they were part of what made her intelligence show through in her features. “I knew you had more secrets than you could count. I knew how uncomfortable you were with letting people see you, on the outside and the inside. Why do you think I showed you my tattoos and told you about Dan? It was to earn your trust, not to steal information from you, but to give you someone you could feel safe talking to. I’m not at all surprised that you knew things about Dan and didn’t tell me. I never asked you if you knew him, I never asked you what your business in Ipswich was, I never asked you how you got your scars or when, none of it. And I played it that way because I could see that you were a soul I could trust to treat me gently and with respect, so I chose to give you the same treatment. So, no, you didn’t manipulate me. I knew exactly what I was getting into.” She kissed him again, slow and deep, her tongue teasing his until he was panting and digging his fingers into her back and hip. She softly bit his lower lip and, despite everything, his brain emptied and a growl slipped from between his lips. She teased her tongue over the bite, then bit down again, harder this time. Another growl escaped him and he was lifting her up onto the counter. She wrapped her legs around his waist immediately and one of his hands went to the small of her back, pressing her close so he was cradled against her core. Their hands scrambled over each other, hers finding the hem of his shirt and sliding up under it, his tracing beneath her breasts, then along her neckline and back down. 

When they were both gasping for air, Ember broke the kiss and said, in that same bedroom voice from last night, “Chase. You’re going to live, you’re going to come back here, and when the tea room closes, you’re going to fuck me on this counter.”

“Baby, I’ll fuck you anywhere you want, just say the word.”

“Oh, I was hoping you’d say that.”


	8. Family Reunion

Chase left the tea room a few minutes before it opened holding a travel cup of London Fog that Ember insisted on sending with him. He cradled it in his hand like a talisman as he walked to his car and then drove one-handed so he could keep twisting it in the cupholder and lifting it to take sips when the taste of it was more important than avoiding burning his tongue.

Back at the cabin, he plugged in his phone and showered, then made himself another cup of tea when the London Fog was regrettably gone. He put the fresh brew into the paper cup with the tea room’s logo printed on the sleeve. The Power was a grinding hum right behind his eye this morning and the shower did little to ease the pain. He was looking forward to either being dead or no longer having a reason not to Use.

That wasn’t true. He didn’t want to die. Really didn’t want to die.

His hands were shaking so badly he could barely lift his tea to drink it and settled on a more comfortable shirt than he’d have normally chosen because he couldn’t manage buttons. When the text finally came from Caleb, it was a massive relief.

_Caleb: At the barn at two._

He snorted. Of course, Caleb would choose the barn. It was poetic, it was a site that was important to the Covenant’s history, and it would put Chase at a huge disadvantage because of the traumatic memories associated with it. He’d nearly burned to death in that barn and he remembered every second of it like it was yesterday. He hadn’t passed out until he was a mile from the barn trudging through the woods just north of the road that led to Gloucester Memorial, and then when he woke, he could feel every granule of soil digging into his open flesh where he’d been lying in the dirt. It was absolute hell. And, of course, the morons at Gloucester didn’t have a burn unit and could only give him emergency response treatment until a helicopter arrived to airlift him to a major hospital. He’d been awake for most of that too and still afraid to Use to numb the pain while he was within range of Caleb’s internal radar.

What a nightmare.

_Chase: Should I wear my funeral suit?_

He could rather clearly picture Caleb rolling his eyes at that during the pause before a response came. _Caleb: You know that’s not how I want to settle this. I’ve been asked to warn you, though, that if this goes sideways it won’t matter what you’re wearing because what’s left of you will be in a shallow unmarked grave._

He snorted, unsurprised. _Chase: Cheerful. I look forward to seeing you too._

There was no response after that and he didn’t expect one. Instead, he set a very loud and obnoxious alarm on his phone, drank enough gin from the bottle to slow things to a crawl, and buried himself in blankets to force himself out of consciousness. He awoke to the alarm several hours later and arrived at the Putnam barn right on schedule, if still somewhere between drunk and hungover. He parked between Reed’s oversized Jeep and Pogue’s motorcycle, snorting at the collection of very expensive and very aggressive vehicles. His Jaguar fit in in terms of price-point, but it was far more subtle, just like him. He could feel the Power and anger in the air as he traversed the rocky field to the ruins of the barn where he could feel them waiting. They were gathered in the clearing in front of the barn where he and Caleb had fought five years ago and he dealt each of them an overly genial smile as he assessed the degree of hate they were expressing towards him. All four of the Sons of Ipswich were so tense they moved jerkily and stood with fists clenched and neck muscles strained. Reed’s eyes were black with Power he was trying and failing to contain. Chase was sure he was well on his way to addict status and could probably use that to his advantage. Tyler’s eyes kept dancing around the group, ever the peacekeeper. Pogue was almost as angry as Reed, but far more controlled in it. Caleb…Caleb looked to be pleading with him to make this worth the arguments he’d been through to get them all here and acting civilly. He also seemed to be hoping to avoid killing Chase, a good sign.

“Brothers,” he said ironically, stopping at the edge of the circle they’d formed. Hands loose, thumbs in his pockets, shoulders dropped, Power tamped down so they wouldn’t feel it or see how the withdrawal was affecting him. “So nice to see you again.”

“Chase,” Pogue said in a dangerous voice. “Curse anyone lately?”

“I’m cutting back,” he said dryly. “Haven’t cursed anyone in five years, if you must know.”

“Yeah, right,” Reed hissed. “You’re a liar. I think you’re so used to lying you don’t know how to say anything true.”

He knew he shouldn’t be poking the bear, so to say, but that was a shot he couldn’t miss returning. He raised an eyebrow and said directly to Reed, “I could say the same about you, but I think in your case it has more to deal with you being all bark and no bite.”

Reed lunged forward, but Tyler stopped him with a hand on his chest. Reed’s fists were clenching and unclenching. “Fuck you, Collins,” he growled.

Chase narrowed his eyes and pushed his hair back from his face using his scarred left hand. Reed stilled. “Tempting, but I’ve already been fucked over by one of you. Not looking for a repeat.”

“Get on with it, Chase,” Caleb said. “What is it you want from us?”

He smiled wryly. “Wouldn’t know. I’ve never seen a Covenant document in my life. I know you have plenty, though, probably a whole fucking library, and I really doubt anyone’s looked through it page-by-page in generations. I’m happy to do that if it means I can find something that might be useful in slowing the aging. If I’m wrong and one of you has looked through it all page-by-page and can tell me for a fact that there’s nothing useful, fine. We can be done here. But I bet you haven’t.”

The Sons of Ipswich looked to one another briefly before Caleb answered, “None of us have. We’ve all read the Book of Damnation cover-to-cover, but there’s plenty that’s untouched.”

Thirteen-year-old Chase would have given anything to have a Book of Damnation to study and would have soaked up every page in addition to it that he could find. It shouldn’t have surprised him that these entitled assholes had not appreciated what they’d been given. The _knowledge_, the _family ties_, the _purpose_. They had taken it all for granted. Inside, he was burning with righteous fury, but outside, all he did was shrug. “I’ll share whatever I find with you. It would be just as valuable to you as to me. I’m basically offering to find it for you.” He eyed Reed again, whose eyes were still black. “I have a feeling some of you need it almost as badly as I do.”

“So, you’re an addict and need to either get unaddicted or slow the aging so you don’t have to change,” Pogue summarized bluntly. “What’s your timeline?”

Chase couldn’t help grinding his teeth together at that. It was a hell of a lot more nuanced than that and the way he cut the situation down like that put all of the blame on Chase, _again_, despite it not having been his fault that it wasn’t until he’d found his real father at eighteen that he knew it was fucking addictive or self-destructive. But fine, he’d tell Saint Pogue his life story if it got him what he needed. “If I didn’t change my habits and didn’t find anything useful, I’ll be in a nursing home in less than ten years and lucky to see age forty. When I found my biological father, he was forty and immobile in a cheap as shit, government nursing home. He’s dead now. I don’t intend to be in that position if there’s anything I can do about it.” He directed that statement to Caleb, knowing he would remember the comment Chase had made about offing himself if the Sons refused to help him. Caleb held his gaze for only a moment before looking to his feet. So, letting Chase kill himself was just as bad as killing him here and now. Good. Chase agreed.

“And why shouldn’t we just expedite that process?” Pogue said darkly. “After what you did to Kate and to me? After what you tried to do to Caleb and would have done to all of us?”

“You look just fine now,” Chase growled. It was taking everything he had to keep his emotions in check, especially with the withdrawal headache building behind his left eye again. “Not so for me. I paid for my mistakes and I’m still paying for them. Life is pretty difficult when you look like this and it’s only going to get worse as I get sicker.”

“Sick_er_?” Tyler asked, frowning deeply. “You already have physical symptoms?”

“Oh, didn’t anybody _tell you_ how early the physical symptoms start?” he snapped. “Every organ in my body is half as strong as it was before I Ascended and my immune system is nonexistent. I almost died of pneumonia last winter, which I would not recommend. And withdrawal is a fucking bitch.”

“What the fuck happened to your neck? Any chance you’ve got lesions or anything fun?” Reed asked viciously.

Chase, though, knew exactly the marks he was referring to and smirked, very suddenly cheered. He brought a hand up to trace one of the marks with a fingertip, remembering very vividly how hard it had been to scrub Ember’s lipstick off of it. “Don’t recognize a love bite, Garwin? Let’s say I had a good last night on this earth.”

Caleb groaned in annoyance as Reed reddened and lurched forward only to be stopped again by Tyler. Gritting his teeth audibly, Caleb bit out the words, “It was not your last night on this earth. We wouldn’t have gotten this far in the conversation if it was.”

“I disagree,” Reed growled.

“And you’re one-fourth of the vote.” Caleb looked to Tyler and Pogue pointedly.

Tyler sighed and looked over Chase’s scars, then met his gaze and said, “I don’t like it. I know what’s in those books, at least some of them. I don’t think we should kill him, though.”

They looked to Pogue next, who was openly glaring at Chase, but at least wasn’t black-eyed. “I agree with Reed that you’re a liar and a manipulator,” he said to Chase. “I don’t trust you with those books and I don’t think you’ve paid enough for what you did. Kate still has nightmares about those fucking spiders, asshole. She sees a therapist who’s calling it fucking PTSD. And I walk with a limp that’s eventually going to put me in a wheelchair from you dropping my bike on me. Personally, I’d like to see you with a few broken bones and a few more scars. And I don’t mind the idea of you dead in a nursing home fifteen years from now.”

Chase raised an eyebrow and gestured to Reed. “How about him? You want him dead in a nursing home fifteen years from now? His eyes have been black since I got out of my fucking car because he’s Using to keep himself from Using. I’m not the only addict at this family reunion.”

“You bastard,” Reed snapped. This time it took both Tyler and Caleb holding him back to stop him. A quiet stillness fell over the group then as they took in the significance of what Chase and Reed had said, especially the fact that Reed hadn’t even tried to deny it.

Chase tilted his head, eyeing Reed with narrowed eyes. “I can see veins in your neck and forehead throbbing from here. How long has your heart been out of control? Does it ever skip or spike out of nowhere? How about shortness of breath? Or maybe your guts are more sensitive than they used to be and you get nauseous or your other _functions_ don’t work right regardless of what you eat? You’re not far behind me on this particular train ride and if you’re smart you’ll do something about it while you still can.”

“Shut up, Collins,” Reed growled. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, I do, and so do you.” He raised an eyebrow at Caleb and Pogue. “I know he’s not going to go paging through old books and papers to save himself. Are you?”

Pogue silently looked to Caleb, who sighed and said, “You know I would if I could leave my mom for more than two hours at a time and they can’t leave the sanctum for me to take home. They’re Bound.”

“And you know I would if I still lived here, but it was hard enough to get away to do this. I can’t keep making trips up here, not even to save your stupid life,” Tyler said, rolling his eyes at Reed, who made no argument or defense of his ability or desire to do the project himself.

Chase barely resisted rolling his eyes. He’d been a spoiled rich boy in so many ways, but one way he absolutely wasn’t was in his willingness to things himself. Chase had spent his whole life being told that he wasn’t entitled to anything he was given, that he had to earn it. When the Power came along, he had to learn to control it and understand it entirely on his own and when he realized what it was doing to him, he had to find a way to save himself. He would never farm out something this important, but these posers who’d been born with silver spoons in their mouths? They were happy to, even to their worst enemy. “So, everyone cares about Reed enough to hire out a cure for him. Do we have a deal or not?”

There was a minute of silent, angsty communication between the Sons. Chase could feel Reed and Pogue’s disapproval in the air. Finally, Caleb locked eyes with him and said, “There would be conditions.”

“Obviously.”

“Our agreement still stands. You don’t Use while you’re in Ipswich.”

“Christ, Caleb,” he groaned. His hands were starting to shake again despite his efforts, a poignant thing given the topic of discussion. “I. Am. An addict. If I can’t Use, the withdrawal is going to kill me and I certainly won’t be able to focus on reading ancient books when my migraines are so bad I can’t see straight.”

“You became an addict by Using too much, including on other people,” Pogue snapped at him. “I’d like to Use on you right now, but that hasn’t happened yet. Count yourself fortunate.”

“Praise be to God,” he said with plenty of bitterness. “So, I can’t Use in Ipswich. Fine. How far out of Ipswich do I need to go to be allowed to Use? Do I need a permission slip for day trips out of the state?”

Caleb rolled his eyes. “I said Ipswich, didn’t I? The point is that we don’t want you breaching the Covenant or causing harm in this community. What you do elsewhere is on you and you can go wherever the hell you want. We’re certainly not going to keep you in Ipswich. Another condition, though, is that if we find out you Used to harm someone, you’re dead.”

The withdrawal headache spiked and he dug his fingertips into his temple there, wishing he could claw out the pain. “I told you that I haven’t cursed anyone in five years, I’m not going to do anything malicious. If I’m being mugged, though, I’m probably going to Use to melt the bullets in his gun as I can punch him in the face. Are you going to hunt me down for that?”

Caleb rolled his eyes again and cradled a temple in his hand in exasperation. Maybe he was nursing a headache too. Chase wouldn’t blame him. The other three were glaring in irritation. “God, Chase. I don’t know. I’m inclined to say that it doesn’t matter because you can justify anything. That’s what you do, isn’t it? Lie to yourself and everyone else to make the ends justify the means?”

That stung. _Dan._ He’d lied to himself about Dan ever since he did it, all different sorts of lies, and it had never balanced out in his head. “I don’t operate that way anymore.”

“You don’t Use to harm anyone,” Caleb said firmly. “If you don’t like it, there’s no deal.”

“Fine, fine, whatever. ‘Do no harm’ and all that bullshit. In five years, I haven’t done anything more harmful than throw a drink across a bar, but you guys don’t care about that.” That earned him more eye rolls and no words. They didn’t believe him. What had he expected? He rolled his eyes right back, realizing belatedly the effect that would have on his migraine. The figurative icepick in his left eye spun and scraped at his skull as his eye rolled. He must have betrayed some sign of the pain because Caleb’s eyes narrowed at him. Just what he needed. His enemy knew he was weak. “Any other conditions I should be aware of? Places I can’t go? People I can’t talk to? Channels I can’t watch on tv?”

More hisses and growls of irritation. Caleb held up a hand for quiet, though, and it was heeded. Chase didn’t like the way he was studying him or the brief look he shot at Pogue. “Who was your last night on this earth, Chase?”

His hackles rose right up. He didn’t want these assholes anywhere near Ember and he didn’t want them between him and Ember either. “I don’t kiss and tell. Last chance for other conditions.”

“Kate,” Pogue barked at him. “You stay the fuck away from Kate. I don’t even want her knowing you’re alive. She’s still in pieces thanks to you, so don’t you dare go near her.”

That made him absolutely nauseous, but he just lifted his left hand and hid his distress at Kate’s mental state by showing off his scars again. “I don’t make a good center of attention anymore. She wouldn’t see me unless I wanted her to and I don’t want her to.”

Pogue ground his teeth together, but didn’t argue the point further.

“Pogue has a point,” Caleb said quietly. “You should stay away from all our families. There’s no reason to let anyone recognize you and be upset that you’re around.”

Chase sighed and said, “Fine. Now that we all know how happy Ipswich is to have me back, is that everything? Do I need an ankle bracelet? Maybe I should do a piss test so you guys know which drugs I’m on?”

A burst of energy nailed him in the center of his chest and sent him soaring backwards. Automatically, the Power caught him like a set of wings and he flipped slowly over in the air and landed on two feet. The dead leaves whispered and swirled in a slow dance around him. His hands were not shaking, the migraine was gone, and pleasure and power rippled through his flesh. He hooked his thumbs in his pockets again and smirked at the Sons. He must’ve still been black-eyed with Power, because every one of them was too. Reed was a few steps ahead of them, having not been held back by anyone this time. “Thank you, Mr. Garwin, for the excuse. That felt so damn good. Would anyone else like to hit me?” He directed a raised eyebrow at Pogue. “Pogue? I know you do.”

“Enough!” Caleb snapped. “I said not in Ipswich. We are within the historical boundaries of Ipswich. Reed, dial it back!”

“For fuck’s sake, Caleb…” Reed grumbled.

“I said enough,” Caleb said, cutting Reed off with a brush of Power behind the words. Chase smirked and tamped down his own Power as Reed scowled. Then, Caleb directed his attention back to him as his eyes shifted back to brown. “Chase, you know the rules and what happens if you break them. I’ll text you tomorrow to arrange a meeting at the sanctum.”

His heart was racing with triumph and he couldn’t stop a grin. “I’ll look forward to it. We should do this more often…family reunions are so much fun.”

Reed and Pogue both looked ready to come unglued at that and Caleb gave him a withering look, but he just smirked and turned his back to them brazenly to walk to his car. They let him go.

He was still alive and he was getting access to the sanctum.

There was only one thing that could make this better, and it was a short drive to town away.


	9. Things We Have in Common

The bell over the door rang and for the twenty-eighth time that day, I looked up hoping to see Chase. I was worried to the point of illness and distraction over him and his meeting with the stupid Sons of Ipswich who had _put those fucking scars on him_ and now that he was _dying_ were apparently more likely to kill him than fork over a family document to help him.

Part of me was deeply disturbed wondering what Chase had done to make them hate him so much. Another part knew the Chase of today and wondered how anyone could have ever hurt him that way. Maybe he had been a different person years ago.

Which is how I knew he had information about Dan’s death. I remembered now that Dan had not been the only Spenser’s student to not finish that semester. There had also been Chase Collins, a boy a year older than Dan who disappeared the night of the fall dance, the night the Putnam barn burned. Chase had been a new student with Dan, had been a friend of the Sons of Ipswich, and had disappeared only weeks after Dan died. Caleb knew something about Dan’s death, I knew that just from looking at those guilty eyes, and Chase had plenty of bad history with Caleb for someone who hadn’t been in Ipswich long. It wasn’t a far leap. And when I’d asked Chase this morning and seen his face, it had become obvious. He knew who had killed Dan. He had been present at his death. He might have even had a hand in it if the guilt in his eyes was any indicator.

But I didn’t know the true story there. I did know that Chase was facing Caleb and the others today knowing they might kill him. I did know that Chase was convinced he had only a few short years to live if they refused to help him. I did know that Chase was covered in brutal scars now when he’d been known as a pretty boy as a Spenser’s student five years ago. And I did know that he would have had to do something pretty horrible to justify all those consequences.

So, I was horribly worried and eager to see him again both to get my answers and to indulge in how deeply he cared for me. The way he’d treated me last night, the electric sex, and the desperate words he’d said to me this morning made it very clear how much he cared about me. It would have been terrifying to another woman, but not to me. I appreciated the honesty and I was deeply flattered that he had such strong feelings for me when I’d attracted such unemotional creeps in the last few years.

The tea room door opened them to reveal Exhibit A.

Aaron Abbot and two of his friends, Drew and Kyle, were blatantly making eyes at me as they approached the counter. My stomach soured and I decided that I was in no mood to soften things today, not when I was worried about Chase and wrapped up in memories of Dan’s death. Instead, I elected to raise a disdaining eyebrow at Aaron and his entourage. “Aaron. What are you doing in here?”

“Oh, I’m just here for…what is it the Brits call it? A cuppa?” Aaron flashed me what he apparently thought was an appealing smile and leaned on the counter exactly where Chase had when he’d flirted with me on Thursday. I crossed my arms and stood stiff as a board on my side of the counter. “So…how does one order tea? Is it as complicated as coffee?”

“Worse,” I said dryly. “You should stick to Miller Lite.”

Drew and Kyle chuckled and eyed each other behind Aaron, but it wasn’t enough to deter him yet. This wasn’t the first time he’d made a pass at me, though it ranked among the boldest attempts, bringing him into my place of business to do it. Aaron just smiled a little more tightly and leaned forward a bit farther over the counter. He was tall, tall enough to make me very uncomfortable if he leaned forward much more. “How about a deal. We can both try new things. I can try tea and you can try beer. We were just heading for a night out and I thought you could come with us.”

I rolled my eyes. “I already drink beer. I’m at Nicky’s once a week _to drink beer_. I don’t exactly need a tour director.”

The peanut gallery was laughing a little louder now and I was glad that there were only two actual customers in The Hatter’s, one of which was on their way out and staring, eyebrows raised, at Aaron. It was almost closing time and then I could kick them out and lock the doors.

Unless I couldn’t.

My muscles all tightened under my skin and I looked again at Aaron and his two friends, both of whom were just as tall as him and slightly bigger around. They seemed harmless enough, but if they weren’t, I would be screwed.

“Come on, Ember,” Aaron said, barely masking his rising anger. He had always been such a hothead. “One drink. That’s all I want.”

I glared at him. If they were here to threaten or manhandle me, they’d have a hard time getting away with it while Troy Bartlett was sitting in the corner, even if he was pretty focused on his laptop. “No.”

“No?” Aaron scoffed.

“No,” I repeated. “Not today, not ever. So, you can back off and find someone else to bother.”

Aaron twitched and stepped away from the counter, clenching and unclenching his fists. Kyle and Drew had stiffened and were looking between him and I like they were at a tennis match. I needed to get them the hell out of here. This situation was a powder keg and I had seen Aaron get thrown out of bars before over getting rowdy with guys or handsy with girls. “Why?”

It seemed like a bad time to tell the truth, which was that everything about Aaron Abbott made my skin crawl. Instead, I went for a half-truth that he might swallow a little easier. “I’m with someone.”

“Since when?” he snapped. “You were at Nicky’s alone night before last.”

All the hairs along my spine stood up. “Last night I went out with him and I really like him, so it’s a thing now. In fact, I have plans with him tonight, so really, I am unavailable.”

Aaron laughed in that sharp-edged way that meant he was about to do something stupid. “You _really like him_. Who is he? Someone I know? Some idiot townie? Some big-city tourist-type with a fanny pack?”

This was bad. “That’s…really none of your business, Aaron.”

He spun on me, eyes blazing as his friends clenched their fists.

The bell over the door jingled. For half a second, I felt relief that someone, maybe even Chase, was walking in. Then, Troy Bartlett called, “See ya, Ember,” and the door fell shut. My witness was gone.

“None of my business?” Aaron hissed as my heart raced faster and faster. “You are such an arrogant bitch, you know that? Nothing I do or say is good enough for you and now you’re turning me down _again_ after I’ve asked nicely _again_ and when I ask for the tiniest bit of explanation, _it’s none of my business_?”

“Aaron,” I said, my voice much firmer and calmer than the rest of me. “You and your friends need to leave. I’m closing and you’re not welcome here right now.”

Aaron ground his teeth together for a heavy moment, then smacked his hand hard enough on the counter to make me flinch. “You know what? I think we’ll help you close up. Seems like the decent thing to do for a girl all on her own.”

As I watched, Drew moved towards the door to lock it and Kyle went for the panel of light switches by the backroom door. Aaron’s eyes were locked on me as he moved around the counter, his jaw and his fists clenching and unclenching again and again, betraying his rage. “Aaron,” I said quietly, refusing to move and betray my fear. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

A slow grin spread across Aaron’s face as his eyes raked over me and he came around the side of the counter to approach me. “I don’t think I’ll regret it. Now, where else do you have those tattoos?”

There was a scuffle then a crash and Aaron and I both spun to watch Drew stumble into a table and crumple to the floor, shoved there by the opening front door. Through it walked Chase, who glared darkly down at Drew to make sure he stayed on the floor. Then, his sharp blue eyes snapped up, giving me a once-over before turning to glare daggers at Aaron. “Aaron. I was so hoping to run into you.”

I looked to Aaron, whose face had gone chalk-white. “Chase. You’re supposed to be dead. You died in that fire.”

Chase was walking slowly, but very deliberately, aware that every step he took was causing Aaron to twitch with fear. Every step he took also sent a pulse of oxygen into my fearful, anxious body and I found the strength to move my hand from clenched around my elbow to braced on the counter. I felt Chase’s eyes on me for a fraction of a second, then they darkened further and his voice went lower in dangerous fury. “Unfortunately for you, I’m not dead, just…” he very deliberately pushed his hair back from his face, revealing the wicked scars. Aaron jerked back in shock and horror. “Rougher around the edges,” Chase finished. “Now, when I walked in, I heard you say something about not regretting things.” He stopped a few mere feet from Aaron, who had backed himself right up to the wall. Beyond him, Kyle was staring wide-eyed. Chase frowned, looked to me, then looked back to Aaron. “What exactly were you planning on not regretting? I hope it wasn’t forcing this girl to show off tattoos under clothes she put on so scum like you wouldn’t ogle her. Was that what you weren’t regretting? Stripping a woman who told you ‘no?’”

“This is…” Aaron choked on the words, then tried again. “This is none of your business. You don’t belong here. Five years ago, you showed up out of nowhere, caused all that shit, and now here you are again looking to cause more trouble.”

Chase nodded slowly. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I really don’t care, though. I care that you and your chicken-shit friends were just threatening to _gang-rape_ a woman in her place of business.”

“That’s not…”

Chase slammed his fist into Aaron’s abdomen and he fell forward into Chase’s arms, where he received a knee to the balls. Chase let Aaron sink to the floor where he curled inward on himself, moaning and sobbing. He then shot a glare at Kyle, who promptly scurried to the door, hauled Drew to his feet, and dragged him out. Chase shook his head in disgust and gave Aaron a kick in the ribs that made him cry out. 

Then, his eyes snapped to me. 

He looked like an avenging angel or perhaps a demon, I couldn’t say which, but a moment later, the rage seeped out of him, his shoulders fell, and overwhelming concern flooded his features. It was enough to bring tears to my eyes, though they did not fall.

Chase’s hands locked warm and soft around my biceps, holding me steady as he stood before me, blocking my line of vision to Aaron. His eyes were blue steel burning with emotion. “Can I hold you?” he whispered and I heard that same voice that he’d used this morning as he cried on me.

I nodded and one tear fell over my cheek as I whispered, “Please.”

He moved slowly, telegraphing his movements as if afraid of startling me, and folded me into his chest. With one finger, he wiped that tear off my cheek, then his arms were soft and warm all around me and I was able to bury my face in his neck. His hair brushed the side of my face and he smelled like the lavender shampoo we’d washed each other with that very morning. The scent conjured memories of him pressing me against the shower wall and asking me to scream his name while warm water and soap suds slipped between our joined bodies. “You are so brave, baby,” he whispered to me. “Tough as nails.” I wasn’t sure I agreed with that, but I didn’t have the strength right then to argue. Chase pressed a kiss to my temple and asked, “Has he ever laid a hand on you?”

“No. Not for lack of trying, though.”

A growl rumbled in Chase’s chest and it stirred something low and primal in me. “Shh,” I murmured to him. Then I kissed him, at first as a soft reassurance that everything was fine now, then as something that could only be described as possessive.

“What the shit, Ember?” Aaron hissed. “You won’t give me the time of day, but Scarface here can stick his tongue in your mouth?”

Chase stiffened like a gargoyle and when I looked up at him, I expected to see the blind rage I felt at those words. Instead I saw a wicked smirk. “The next time you say something _funny_, you’ll find yourself with some scars of your own, Abbott.”

I could hear Aaron finding his feet though neither of us was watching him. “Go fuck yourself, Collins. That’s probably all you get these days anyway, huh?”

My fingertips dug themselves into Chase’s arm to keep my hands from shaking, now not in terror but in rage. “I happen to know that that’s not true. Now get the fuck out of my shop, Aaron.”

Aaron grumbled something that made Chase twitch to hear, but made his way towards the door. He’d almost made it there and I’d started to think that was going to be the end of it, but then Aaron spun on his heel to face us. He was talking to _me_, though, his angry eyes on _me_ as he let an angry laugh bubble from his mouth. “Well, Ember, _I _happen to know that this guy doesn’t stay anywhere for long. So, when he skips town again and you get lonely…well, when my head’s between your thighs at least you won’t be getting rugburn from those scars anymore.”

There was a joke about Aaron’s inability to grow facial hair to be made there, but I was too damn angry and it wasn’t harsh enough. I wanted to throw something at his stupid face…

And then one of my tea kettles collided at full speed with Aaron’s face. There was a _clang_ as it bounced off and he instantly dropped in a heap as the kettle landed sideways on the floor, steaming water pouring out.

“You know,” Chase said slowly, releasing me as he stared at Aaron’s unconscious form. “I’ve been trying to work on my self-control and it’s just not happening.”

I snorted. “Well, if you didn’t throw something, I was about to and my aim is not that good.” Chase met my gaze in surprise, then we both chuckled softly before moving towards Aaron. “Do you think he’s alive?” I asked dryly.

“Unfortunately. I do hope that that hot kettle left a burn mark, though.” Chase bent down beside Aaron and rolled him over. “Ha! Perfect.” There was indeed a single mild burn across Aaron’s brow, not bad enough to scar, probably, but definitely bad enough to be painful and upsetting for days. Chase pursed his lips thoughtfully. “He’s definitely alive. I think we should just toss him in the alley, let him come to on his own.”

I glanced out the big front windows at the harbor walk. It was quiet, but not quiet enough to be dragging bodies around. “There’s a back door. Which end do you want?”

Chase laughed, actually laughed, and he offered me the feet on the condition that I get the door. Together we hauled Aaron into the back alley and around the side so he’d be out of sight of both The Hatter’s front door and my apartment stairwell. We stood side-by-side critiquing the way Aaron’s body was slumped against the brick wall, the burn on his face getting redder by the minute and his mouth hanging open. 

“I feel like there’s a final touch we’re missing,” Chase said.

I choked on my laughter, still hoping not to be seen by any passers-by. “I agree. Suggestions? Apple in the mouth maybe?”

Chase shrugged. “I was thinking more along the lines of putting something that belongs to the tea room in his jacket and then reporting it stolen.”

“There’s nothing in the tea room he would want except cash and that’s cash.”

“True. I’d say we could write something on his face, but we’ve already got the burn mark.”

An idea leapt to mind and I snapped my fingers. “I’ve got it. Be right back.”

A minute later, I returned from The Hatter’s with one of the paper coasters I’d had printed with the tea room logo and the words _It was a pleasure serving you!_ I held it up to show Chase and he had to bury the lower half of his face in his hands to hold in his laughter. I had brought with me a bottle of Gorilla Glue that was in the junk drawer of the tea room and crouched beside Aaron, hesitating over where to put it. There were plenty of good spots, but I ultimately poured plenty of glue on the back of the coaster, then slapped it on the side of Aaron’s head. Chase groaned. “Right in his beloved hair. You’re a girl after my own heart.”

I stood up and grinned at him. “Well, you threw the kettle. I guess we make a good team.”

Chase blushed, but his smile didn’t fade as we went back into The Hatter’s. I did my normal closing activities with Chase’s help and, when everything was done, I pulled a bottle of merlot out from my hiding space in the cupboard under the carafes. Chase grabbed two tea cups, two of the few matching ones in the tea room, in fact, and I opened the bottle and poured. As I did, Chase laughed softly and said, “You not only keep a bottle of wine in your tea room, but you also keep a corkscrew.”

“Always be prepared.” We clinked tea cups and sipped at the wine, which was one of my cheaper favorites. Chase grabbed the bottle and spun it around to read it, which made me smile. “It’s a local vineyard. The grocery store in town here sells it at twelve bucks a bottle.”

“No shit. At the risk of sounding like a spoiled rich kid, I’ve had a lot of really good wines, and this one is definitely really good.”

“It’s one of my favorites.”

He looked back to me with a half-smile. “One of? Do you have a favorite-favorite? Or is it a top ten list kind of thing?”

I couldn’t help smiling wider. “Have you had Seven Deadly Zins?”

What had been just a little half-smile became his full-on panty-dropper grin and he moved to face me where I leaned against the counter, his hands braced beside my hips. “I have and I love it.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. I was learning that he was one of those people who usually had something up his sleeve and he definitely had something there right now. “But it’s not your favorite wine?”

Chase shook his head, eyes still locked on mine. “You’ll know when I’m drinking my favorite.” He leaned in to whisper in my ear, “Good wine gets me so hot. When it’s my favorite, it only takes me a glass before I need relief.”

That image and his warm breath on my ear were enough to send desire rippling through my veins and I chuckled softly, moving my hands to lay over his on the counter’s edge. “Well, I’m actually the same way.”

“So, what you’re saying is…we need to drink this wine faster?”

“Well…yes. I suppose I am.”

We pulled apart to down our cups and pour fresh ones, Chase making eyes at me the whole damn time. We talked more about wine and tea, we laughed at how badly Bucky managed to startle Chase sneaking around the darkened tea room, and, another cup in, we started kissing as we talked, then mostly just kissing. The night before we had both been so incorrigible and, apparently, we were not done with that. Chase had one hand in my back jeans pocket and the other cradling my jaw as he kissed my neck. The man had an absolutely sinful mouth and my eyes were rolled back, my head lolling in his hand as he sucked and licked and bit up and down and up my neck. It would be days before I would be able to go without a scarf in public and it was divine. These were marks on my skin I wanted, like my tattoos, pieces of my soul drawn right on my body where I could keep them close to mind and heart. And yeah, I wanted Chase on my skin.

He sucked my pulse point into his mouth and a jolt ran through my body which sent one of my hands to his back pocket, my leg bent up and around his waist, and my other hand digging into his shoulder to keep me upright. Chase kissed my pulse softly, then nuzzled his way into my hair. “This morning, you asked me to fuck you on this counter when I got back. I absolutely understand if you don’t want that anymore…_fuck_.” I bit down on his neck to leave his worries dead in the water, then soothed the bite with my tongue and lips. “People are going to think we’re vampires if we keep marking each other up like this,” he said, his breath stuttering.

“I didn’t realize either of us cared about that,” I said, then pulled back enough to look him in the eye. 

Chase looked utterly wrecked, his lips swollen and red, his blue eyes dark with lust, his eyelids heavy. He kissed me very softly and whispered, “You’re right, but I do care about you. I shouldn’t be leaving marks on you if it’s going to hurt you or make you uncomfortable.”

I kissed him back long and slow, drawing things out until I released him to whisper, “I like having your marks on me.”

He nuzzled my neck, making no secret of breathing in the scent of my skin and hair, then he kissed my throat slow and, after a moment of blissful torture, dug his teeth in deep and sucked. A whimper slipped from my lips and I sagged against him, but he tightened his grip on me without pulling away. He only released me when I was sure that particular love bite would be black and blue by morning. When he did, I gasped and he soothed the bite with endless barely-there kisses, in between whispering, “I like putting marks on you. Helps me pretend for a moment that you’re mine. I want that so damn bad.”

I kissed his forehead and ran my fingers through his hair, which was so damn soft. “Convince me you’re going to stick around and maybe I will be yours,” I murmured to him.

“Fuck I want to promise that. I’m trying this new thing where I don’t manipulate people, though, so I’m not going to promise things I can’t control.” Then he was kissing my mouth again, lifting me up on the counter and massaging his hands up and down my thighs. No one had ever massaged those particular muscles on me and that sweet pressure wrenched a moan from me, the sound of which caused both of us to shudder. Chase kept doing it as we kissed, his fingers working magic on my muscles. I was putty in his hands. “Am I going to need to take you to bed, baby? You look like you’re falling asleep on me.”

“It just feels so good,” I groaned. Then, his thumbs pressed in a slow line up my inner thighs and, when I realized his intent, my lips parted under his in a needy gasp. He knew exactly how much pressure to apply between my legs to drive me wild and he employed that now, teasing me until I was gasping his name. “Chase…Chase, please…I need more.”

“Those are the magic words,” he growled.

A hurried minute later, my jeans were on the floor, his fly was undone, and he had his fingers under my panties and inside me. Another minute after that, his gorgeous cock was buried inside me and I was whimpering and moaning like he was torturing me as he thrusted into me slow and deep, taking his time. I dug my nails into his shoulders, which made him hiss and speed up a little bit, giving me a tiny bit more of that friction I craved. Thinking back to what he’d said about wanting to promise he could stay, I murmured in his ear, “I told you you’d survive today and I was right. I’m telling you now that you’ll survive tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after. There’s no reason to think you’re going anywhere.”

Chase buried his face in my hair and, thankfully, didn’t stop moving inside me despite the conversation. “You almost sound like you want me to stay.”

I leveraged myself against the counter and met his next thrust, which earned me a groan and an increase in the pace. “Maybe I do. You are the first man I’ve allowed to fuck me in my place of business. That has some meaning.”

Chase stilled for a moment, looking me in the eye before he resumed his original torturously slow pace. He watched my reaction for what felt like ages before he replied sincerely, “I’m honored. I know how important this place is to you. It takes trust to put memories of…us together like this…somewhere like this.” He chuckled and bent to kiss my forehead, my cheeks, my chin, and then down my neck. “On the counter where you serve people tea, no less.”

I couldn’t help a grin at that and worked my muscles again, this time to not just leverage myself up but also to roll my hips and thus the rest of me around him. His hips stuttered and he groaned needily, proceeding to more than double his pace and dig his fingertips into my ass. “Maybe I’ve been waiting for you to fuck me on this counter since you first walked through that door.”

“If that’s true, it wasn’t based on my personality. I’m not very good at talking to strangers these days.”

In his ear, I whispered the truth. “It was your eyes.” Out of surprise, he met my gaze with said eyes, dark with lust as they were. I nuzzled his nose briefly, then smiled as I held his gaze. “They’re not quite blue, but there’s enough blue in them that they’re not grey either. Damn gorgeous. But it was also all the depth I could and couldn’t see in them. We complicated people fit well together and I could see right off that you were the right kind of complicated.”

Chase smiled wonderingly, then said into my ear, “Well, you got your wish and I promise to exceed expectations.” His hands shifted on my ass then and he hauled me forward to bend my legs up higher. The next thrust connected directly with my G-spot and I screamed like he’d gutted me, my head lolling back on my spine. “Right there, baby?” Chase asked in that low, teasing voice, knowing full well that it was the perfect spot. I screamed the same way on the next thrust and the one after as Chase took advantage of my state to leave more marks on my neck and what was exposed of my collarbones. Into my skin he said, “That’s it, isn’t it? But you’re not going to come just yet, are you, sweet girl? No, I think you can hold out for just a bit more.”

“Chase,” I whimpered. “Please. Please…harder…”

Instead of obliging, he slowed down again, making me cry out in frustration and need. He chuckled and said, “It’s okay, baby. I promise you’ll have it and it’s going to be worth it. You can take more, I know you can.” One hand very slowly moved from my hip across to just above where we were joined, tracing barely-there circles and infinity symbols over my panties. I clenched around him and tried to thrust and meet him, but his other hand held me firm. “Ah, ah,” he said, “Let me work.” And work he did, pulling me apart piece by piece until finally his fingers were in my panties and his thumb was drawing slow circles around my horribly sensitive clit. Between the thrusts which were still hitting my G-spot and the circles he was tracing around my clit, I was near tears with desperation, my body perched on a knifepoint begging for release. “You’re so fucking close, baby,” Chase murmured. “Fuck, I can feel how close you are.”

“Please,” I whimpered. “Please let me come. Please.”

“Just a bit longer….” That pulled a sob from me and he whispered in my ear, “Shh…I’ve got you baby. Last thing and I promise it’ll push you right over.”

“Please, Chase. I need to come. Please, baby.”

“I’ve got you, baby. Are you ready?” I barely had a moment to whimper my ‘yes’ before his hand had left my hip and gone to the collar of my shirt, sneaking under it and inside my bra. My back arched like a bow, pressing my breast into his hand. His hips stuttered again, which almost sent me over, but then all at once, he was thrusting harder, stroking my clit directly, and pinching my nipple hard and just barely twisting.

He was right. I came instantly and when it happened, I came so hard my vision went white. He didn’t lay off for a second, even after he came inside me, even after I’d been screaming and begging for _minutes_ while my orgasm dragged on_._ It was only when I tapped the back of his hand with a finger that he began to slowly back off, leaving my overstimulated body to go watery in his absence. When his perfect cock left me, the emptiness I felt made me whimper in loneliness. Chase so gently stroked from my temples to my jaw over and over, straightening my hair and stroking my cheeks amongst it. He kissed my forehead and whispered, “You’re okay, baby. I’m not going anywhere. It was worth it, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. God, yes.”

“Let me take you to bed. I happen to know you didn’t sleep much last night.”

I nodded, unable to open my eyes. “Okay.”


	10. Red in His Ledger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Observe that I posted three new chapters in one evening, so if you're jumping in here, make sure you're up to date with chapters 8 & 9.

Chase guided Ember up to her apartment and deposited her in bed, helping her out of her clothes not so he could ravish her as he wanted to but so she would be more comfortable as she slept. She was asleep before he even got her naked and struggled through the last few articles of clothing while she dozed. When he finally pulled the covers over her, he gave in to his phone, which had been vibrating in his pocket on and off since he threw that kettle. Without even looking at the caller id, he swiped the call to answer. “Caleb.”

“You Used in Ipswich. Already. I warned you, Chase, what the fuck were you thinking?”

Chase groaned in frustration and snapped, “Yeah, I know, and you’re calling me instead of your buddies because you know how minor of a spell it was. I threw a fucking tea kettle at Aaron Abbott’s face in hopes of causing moderate burns, pain, and unconsciousness. I was successful. That’s it.”

“You…you _Used_ to throw a _tea kettle_ at Aaron.”

“Yes. I probably could have done it by hand, but I really wanted to hit him square and I didn’t want to risk him dodging it when he saw me reach for it. It had to be done.”

Caleb made a noise of exasperation. “Okay. Okay, I’ll bite. Why did you feel the need to do it at all?”

The protective growl that came out of him was entirely unbidden, strange, and surprisingly acceptable. “The dickhead decided to harass a girl and try to gang-rape her with two of his goons. I got there before they laid a hand on her, but she was scared and he was talking shit. He deserved worse.”

Caleb groaned again and finally said, “You know, normal people would call the police in that situation.”

Chase thought that over for a moment, interested in the fact that he hadn’t considered that and neither had Ember. Finally, he shrugged. “Eh. Tea kettle was more satisfying.”

“God…” Caleb groaned in defeat. “Fine. He deserved it and worse. You know you shouldn’t Use though, and not just because I keep threatening you.”

“I know, Mom. Now kindly fuck off. I’m busy.”

Caleb snorted. “Busy with what?”

Chase turned and looked to Ember’s sleeping form, only small parts of which were covered by the sheet. She’d rolled over while he’d been on the phone and most of her was exposed to him without shame or fear, her breasts rising and falling with each breath, her hair a tangled mess, love bites he hoped wouldn’t be sore purpling all over her skin. A slow smile crept across his face. “Let’s just say it’s the most important thing I’ve been busy with for a very long time. Fuck off, Caleb.” He hung up then and tossed his phone to the corner of the room. Forcing himself to forget about Caleb and everything else was easy as he shucked off his own clothes and crawled into Ember’s bed, pulled the covers up over both of them, and rolled her towards him so she grumbled softly and looped her limbs around him. She was so damn soft and her skin was warm from sleep. He cradled her in his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Someday I’m going to find a way to show you how much I love you. Someday I’m going to atone for everything and then I might deserve you. Until then, I’m not going to take a second you give me for granted. I love you, baby.”

Her breath stuttered the way it sometimes did when her dreams shifted, proving that she was still asleep. He kissed her forehead, which had started to crease, and she immediately went boneless. “Just a dream, baby. You’re safe.”

If there was anything Chase could do right, it was using all the power he had at his disposal to keep her safe. No more assholes threatening her. No more nightmares. No more fear. The Power could do so much for him to insulate her and avenge wrongs and there were other forms of power he possessed. He didn’t give a damn what people thought of him, the one exception being in his arms right there. He had zero sense of self-preservation and feared nothing but time rushing by him. He was very good at intimidating people. Hell, he could probably do wonders to protect Ember just by spending time around her in public while being himself.

In fact…

In fact, if he let them see the scars, he wouldn’t even have to open his mouth.

He thought about that for a very long time while Ember slept on. When she did stir, he kissed her forehead. She stilled and smiled sleepily at him, stretching out to kiss his lips without even opening her eyes. “You watchin’ me sleep, handsome?” she drawled.

“Sweetest thing I ever saw,” he whispered. Her smile widened and he kissed her over and over again. When she collapsed onto the mattress once more, still smiling as she worked on easing her eyes open, he took a breath to steel himself, then went for it. “Ember?”

“Hm?”

“What do you think of me…cutting my hair? I used to wear it short before…what happened.”

She opened her eyes and he watched as her smile just barely widened. She reached up and combed his hair back from the left side of his face with her fingers. A shiver worked its way through him, but he forced himself to stomp on it. “Since I first met you, I’ve been wondering what you would look like with short hair. It seems a shame to cover up a face that handsome.”

“You mean that?”

“Yes.” She sat up and kissed both his cheeks gently, giving the exact same attention to both even though the kiss she gave his left side landed on the very edge of his scars. His heart fucking melted like wax under an open flame. “I think you should be absolutely sure before you do it, but when you decide, I’ll be there with you so you don’t have to be so nervous.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and gathered her into his chest. “Fuck, baby. Thank you.”

“Mm-hmm. What made you think of it?”

He thought about that for a moment, realizing that it had been a few things. “Scaring Aaron with the scars was pretty satisfying. I like the idea of using them to scare off anyone else who would bother you. And you…you’ve made it very clear how you feel about them. You don’t mind them at all.”

Ember did open her eyes then and smiled at him, giving him a glimpse of the soft fondness she was feeling towards him right then. “I don’t mind them at all. I don’t like thinking about all the pain you felt and still feel because of them, but I don’t mind looking at them at all. I have spiders tattooed on my arms for God’s sake. Appearances are more complicated than what most people see.”

He smiled fondly now and began tracing said spiders on her arm. “Why did you get spiders? They’re rather…nontraditional.”

“I love spiders,” she said with a tiny grin. His heart melted again. “They’re so clever and strong and kind of beautiful in their dangerous way. And I like that everyone’s afraid of them. They get a certain power from that fear. There have been times when I wanted to feel that way myself and I’ve never really had that.”

“I feel the same way about them,” he said, more than a little awed by her words. “Do you know that their grip allows them to hold 170 times their own weight? That’s insane.”

“And spider silk is five times stronger than steel?” she said with a full grin. “I’d love to have power like that.” She blushed, making her cheeks a very similar shade to her hair. He couldn’t help stroking one with the back of his finger, causing the blush to deepen. “I will admit to having been a total Spiderman nerd. Dan liked DC Comics, tons of different characters. I was stuck on Spiderman.”

“I always liked Spiderman too. I did prefer Winter Soldier, though. Spiderman was relatable and Winter Soldier wasn’t. He had demons and baggage like nobody else and a lot to atone for and he worked hard at atoning.”

“Red in his ledger,” Ember quoted, still smiling. “We have some surprising things in common.”

“I’d like to find out what else we have in common.”

Ember smiled again, then said, “Stay for dinner? My plan was a pot pie or we can go out again.”

“I’m torn. I do love spoiling you, but I’m a terrible cook, so I can’t remember the last home cooked meal I had.”

Another grin. “Pot pie it is. I just need to find my clothes…someone stole them while I was sleeping.”


	11. I Want to Know

“This is insane,” Chase said yet again as I rolled the crust onto the rolling pin, then unrolled it right into the baking dish. I’d placed him in charge of watching the filling to make sure it didn’t start to curdle, and it was a good thing that it was a token job I knew he didn’t need to do because he was focused almost solely on me. “How are you doing this?”

I blushed and took a sip of tea before moving to the stove. “Magic. What is this doing?”

He chuckled at my response and gave the filling a stir. It was behaving exactly as it usually did, which also meant that it was doing exactly what I wanted it to. “I think it’s doing fine, but I don’t really know.” I dipped a spoon into the mix and offered it to him. He raised an eyebrow and held my gaze as he licked the spoon. Warmth pooled in my core at the sight and at the moan he let out at the taste. “Fuck. Where have you been all my life?”

I laughed and took a test-taste myself, determining that the seasonings were right where I wanted them. Satisfied, I turned off the burner, carried the pot to the baking dish, and poured. “I’ve been right here, teaching myself to cook and bake and brew tea. Want to try laying the top crust?”

“Hell, no,” he said, eyes wide. “I’m telling you, I cannot be trusted with any of this. I am very aware that you did not need me watching that pot and I’m fine with that.”

Another laugh escaped me and I placed the crust myself, then pleated the edges and poked the center while he watched in amazement. “I think you could be a decent cook if you gave it a shot. You’re smart, you’d pick it up.”

“I really doubt it.” He continued to watch like a hawk as I placed the pot pie in the oven and set the timer. Then we both turned our attention to our tea.

Tension began to quietly build and I could tell he knew I was going to broach the subject of what happened today and what happened five years ago. I knew he didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to even think about it, but it couldn’t be avoided. “Chase,” I said gently. “I have to know. About today because I’m worried about you and about before because it concerns Dan. If it was just old baggage, I wouldn’t touch it, you know that.”

“Yeah,” he said weakly. He took a fortifying sip of tea, then began, “Today went much better than I expected. One of them gave me a gut-punch, but otherwise I fared just fine and they agreed to let me see the documents, but not to take them from where they’re kept. Which means I will be sticking around for the forseeable future.” He dealt me a soft smile that fell as quickly as it had risen. “As for before…yeah, I was there when he died. It was…complicated. More complicated than an overdose.”

“The ME said they found traces of drugs in his system,” I said, still hating that knowledge now just as much as I had when they’d first told me.

Chase nodded stiffly. “That’s exactly what they were meant to see.”

A shadow descended over the room. “He was killed and someone put drugs in him to make it look like an overdose?” He nodded again. Recognizing that he was only going to give me the information I asked for directly, I followed that question up. “Who? Where did the drugs come from? Who dosed him?”

Chase shut his eyes tight and his hands tightened on the edge of the counter. In a quiet, hoarse voice, he answered, “They were my drugs. I was a spoiled rich kid and I had all kinds of things I didn’t want to think about and I was addicted to feeling…powerful. I always had something on me. It’s kind of insane that I never got caught. So, they were mine. And…I was the one who put them in his system.”

A brick fell into my stomach and I had to brace myself on the counter too. Tears pricked my eyes as I pictured Chase leaning over my brother, dead, either in his car where the police found him or in the dirt near the bonfire, injecting him with poison to cover up his murder. Nausea churned inside me and I choked out the million-dollar question. “Tell me the truth, Chase. Are you responsible for Dan’s death?”

Tears were now escaping his hidden eyes and his jaw was iron. He nodded, then whispered, “Yes. I am.”

My world turned sideways and I brought one hand to my mouth to hold in any potential bile. It wasn’t an unnatural fear…I felt violently nauseous. I was falling in love with this man, this kind, generous, broken man, and he had killed my brother. The entire situation was sick and wrong, the worst part being how badly I wanted Chase to tell me it had been an accident and it was forgivable. But I’d told him that I didn’t want to know who had done it if it was a forgivable accident and he had just told me anyway. “Why?”

Chase swallowed hard and grimaced, then answered, “He threatened me. He knew everything there was to know about Ipswich, figured out who I was, and figured out that I wasn’t there as the good guy. He had proof. He threatened to tell Caleb who I was and why I was there, that I was a Son of Ipswich and after the families’ power. I don’t know if you can understand, but if he had done that, Caleb would have killed me and if not him, one of the other Sons would have gladly done it when Caleb told them. I tried to cut a deal with Dan and manipulate him. When that didn’t work, I tried to intimidate him. All of this happened at the edge of the woods at that party. If the Sons had been paying attention, they would have heard or seen us. Dan planned it that way. When I threatened him right back, thinking to scare him into silence, he pulled a knife on me.” That brick in my gut dissolved into acid and I buried my face in my hands at the nightmare unfolding in my head. “He stabbed me. I don’t know if he would have killed me, given the chance. I think he meant to defend himself or scare me or something. When I pulled out the knife and turned on him, he screamed for Caleb.” My own tears were falling now and it was all I could do to hold back full sobs. In a very quiet, weak voice, Chase finished, “Caleb didn’t hear. And I couldn’t risk Dan calling for him again. There’s…a way I know of to kill someone. It sends them unconscious instantly and if you don’t back off…they shut down. Lack of oxygen.”

“Right here?” I asked weakly, pressing my thumb very softly against my own throat. I didn’t open my eyes to see his confirmation, but he remained quiet while I spoke. “I was taught that the right pressure in the right place there shuts off that artery.”

“He was gone in a minute, didn’t feel a thing. I promise you that. I…” he choked on the words and a shuddering sob escaped him before he continued. “I wouldn’t have hurt him. He thought he was doing the right thing and he was very brave to do it. I wouldn’t have caused him pain. I just…shut him down. I had the drugs on me and I dosed him so the police would think he’d done it himself by accident and wouldn’t come looking for a murderer. It was cowardly, but I didn’t know what else to do. I was desperate.”

“What was so important?” My voice had gone brittle and I shot a glare at him. He met my gaze for a brief moment and withered. As I looked at him, I saw that he was utterly broken, more broken than me though it was my brother who was dead. He was wracked with guilt and grief and self-loathing over what he’d done. “Chase, why were you really there? What did Dan know?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you the whole truth,” he said sadly. “The partial truth is that I was already dying then and I was convinced that the only way to reverse what was happening to me was to steal power from the Sons of Ipswich. My life was on the line and I didn’t know how to save myself without using force. And I was angry with the Sons. They grew up with the support of each other and their families and with knowledge that had preserved them. I was adopted, I didn’t have any of that. I was dying of a condition that could have been prevented if I’d been raised as they had.”

What in the actual fuck was going on here? I frowned in confusion and asked, “What exactly is it you’re dying of? I assumed it was some inherited disease.”

Chase sighed. “You wouldn’t believe that either.”

“I want to know.”

He gritted his teeth, then turned to face me. He looked so tired and so old. “Did Dan talk about the founding families of Ipswich? Or maybe you heard the story around town?”

I raised an eyebrow. “That they were survivors of the Salem witch trials? Of course.”

His face tightened and he shrugged. “It’s true. The families have access to a Power that the eldest son of each generation is given. It’s not optional, it just happens, which is why…I have it…even though I was adopted. It just happened and I had to figure it out for myself. The families created a Covenant of secrecy to protect themselves from future witch trials. I only found out because I tracked down my biological father and he told me. I thought it was great. Magic. The ability to make things happen the way I wanted them to. To have some control when I was feeling like I could only do what everyone was telling me to. I Used like crazy, almost constantly. At eighteen the Sons get full access to the Power, they call it Ascending. It felt so fucking good and then I was Using even more. Until I found my father.” A tortured grimace contorted his face and he whispered, “I found him in a nursing home…at age forty. From the way he looked and the health problems he had, you’d have thought he was eighty or ninety. And he told me what happened to make him that way. The Power…it’s addictive. And every time we Use…every fucking time…we age. And I had been Using non-stop since I was thirteen. I panicked. I thought I could steal Power from the other Sons and slow things down. My father willed me his Power and died in the process…I thought I could force Caleb to will me his when he Ascended. I threatened him and the other Sons. He Ascended the night of the dance…and the fire. We set the fire by accident when we were fighting. He refused to give up his share. He threw me into the burning barn and he assumed I was killed. He was wrong.” He met my gaze miserably. “I’m already showing physical symptoms. I’m less than ten years from a nursing home if I can’t change things. And the addiction is bad enough that the withdrawal is absolute hell. I’ve tried to stop so many times and I just can’t. Caleb has a sanctum full of the Covenant’s documents, spellbooks and historical notes and whatever else. I came back to ask him for access to it so I can hopefully stop the aging before I get worse. He granted it, but only if I don’t Use in Ipswich. I suppose it’s fair after what I did to him and the others. They don’t trust me as far as they can throw me.”

_What the actual fuck?_ I shook my head, thoroughly overwhelmed. “You’re saying that you’re dying…from using too much magic. And that Dan is dead…because he figured out that you were there to steal Caleb’s magic.”

“Yes.” When I said nothing for a long time, stunned into silence, he sighed and said, “I did say you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Can you prove it?” I asked. “You said you’re not allowed to Use in Ipswich…”

Chase snorted. “Well, I kind of already broke that rule. Did you notice when I threw that kettle at Aaron that my arms were still around you?” I frowned and tried to remember the details of that moment, then looked to him with wide eyes when I did. He nodded meaningfully. “I didn’t want him to dodge it if he saw me wind up and it was important enough to me to risk Caleb’s wrath. So, I Used to throw the tea kettle. Didn’t have to lift a finger.”

And he hadn’t. Every one of his fingers had been laid across my back, holding me steady and soothing me. I blinked in disbelief, then took a deep breath. “Okay. So you have…magic…and it’s lethal for you to use it…and it’s addictive. And five years ago, you tried to force Caleb to give you his to prolong your life. And…” I frowned again. “Right now, you’re breaking the Covenant by telling me this. Isn’t that going to piss off Caleb again?”

He shrugged and his eyes were open with honesty. Softly, he said, “I really don’t care. You asked and I’m done lying to you. In fact, I’ve never lied to you, except about my name. I just didn’t say certain things. I haven’t used the name ‘Chase’ since what happened and when I realized I’d given you the wrong name, I was nervous that you would put together who I was if I corrected it. I was right to be worried…you’re a lot smarter than me.”

My head was still spinning with all of this information and the maelstrom of emotions I was feeling. Tears gathered in my eyes and I held his gaze as I said brokenly, “I don’t know what to say or what to feel. I should hate you for ending Dan’s life and for hurting all those other people too and I just can’t.”

His face fell and he stared at his hands clutching the edge of the counter. “You should hate me. It’s what I deserve. And for the record, I Used on Dan.” He grimaced at the memory. “I didn’t lay a finger on him, just…put him to sleep. When he was out, I Used again to cut off his oxygen. Really, I…I gave him a stroke. I swear to God, he didn’t feel a thing, didn’t even see it coming. It won’t leave my head, though, and knowing what you went through because I killed him? Because I put those drugs in him? It makes me sick. At the least I should have told you all of this before last night. That was wrong of me and that never would have happened if you had known.”

I gritted my teeth and my tears began to fall. He had ended Dan’s life. He had tortured me with grief and confusion. But Dan had not suffered and he’d been beating himself up every day since. What was I supposed to do with that? I did know how I felt about Chase keeping things from me, though, and about every moment we’d spent together in which I hadn’t known the truth. “Chase. If we’re being honest, I wanted you from when you first walked into my tea room and you have shown me more kindness than any other man I have known, including Dan. You have respected me more than he ever did, more than anyone ever has. You withheld very important information from me, but I don’t think you did it to manipulate me or hurt me, did you?”

He shook his head, still not meeting my gaze, still ashamed. “No. I never wanted or intended to hurt you. I thought…honestly, I thought I’d be dead by now and it wouldn’t matter, it would never hurt you. And I didn’t plan to sleep with you last night. I just…well, fuck…I just couldn’t help it. You’re…fucking amazing, in every way, and you wanted me and I couldn’t say ‘no’ to you. It was wrong of me and I’m so sorry.”

“I’m…not.” He looked up then in shock and I shrugged in helpless misery. “It’s true. I’m not sorry for last night, or for today. I don’t have a problem with how you’ve handled things since we met. The problem is what you did to Dan. He was seventeen, Chase, and you stole the rest of his life from him on your quest to lengthen yours. That’s wrong.”

“I know it’s wrong,” he whimpered. “It haunts me, fucking haunts me. I tell myself that he didn’t suffer, he didn’t know what was happening, he didn’t feel a damn thing, but I can’t let it go. It will _always_ haunt me. And I am not asking you to forgive me, I don’t believe anyone could forgive what I did. I’m not asking for a damn thing.” He nodded to the knife block. “End me if you want. I won’t stop you. It’s exactly what I deserve.”

I shuddered at that and shook my head fiercely. “It’s not up to me to determine what people deserve. They get what’s coming to them without my say.” I reached out slowly with a shaking hand to brush his hair back from the left side of his face. The movement, or perhaps the barely-there touch, had him grimacing but not moving away. “This right here is far more than retribution for what you did to Caleb and the rest of them. And maybe…maybe what you’ve done for me is a bit of atonement for what you did to Dan.” He looked to me in shock and I continued softly, laying his hand on my left hip, eyes on his. “Plenty of men have been…unkind to me. Most men have been thoughtless with me. They see the silly strawberry hair and the tattoos and they think I’m a shallow girl looking for a good time. I don’t exactly attract the type of guy I need in my life, only the type that uses me up and spits me out. But you…you have treated me with nothing but kindness and respect and thoughtfulness. I don’t know what happens with you and I after this but I am very grateful to you for that.”

Face contorted by emotion, Chase dropped to his knees at my feet, his hands going to mine. He didn’t look up at me, but down at my socked feet instead. “Ember, all I’ve done is treat you the way you deserve. It makes me sick that you haven’t had that before and that you have been _hurt_ by some of those men. It makes my blood _boil_ knowing that some bastard put out _cigarettes _on you. When I came here, I was resigned to this last-ditch effort failing. My plan was to off myself today because I had nothing worth living for if I couldn’t extend my life long enough to make plans and find something to care about. And then I found you and suddenly had something to care about.” My hands were shaking in his and my knees were threatening to buckle with the effort it took not to break down and turn into a weeping mess. This was so much and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know. The things I did know were so disorienting, like how deeply it upset me to think of Chase killing himself. “Baby,” Chase said softly, looking up at me with eyes shining with tears. “I love you. If that scares you, if that angers you, that’s fine. I said I’m done lying to you, though, and I want you to know before we’re done and I lose the chance to say it.”

_Holy shit._ I should have hated him. I knew I should have hated him, should have slapped him for daring to tell me he loved me mere minutes after confessing to killing my brother.

But I couldn’t. _Especially _now.

And because I wasn’t willing to lie to him either and never had, I whispered through my tears, “I have never been told that before.”

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, dropping his head again for a moment, then kissing my hand. “Baby, you deserve to be told that every day. I’m so fucking sorry. That makes me want to punch out every person who ever failed to say that to you. And I swear I mean it. I wouldn’t lie to you. I do love you.”

What the hell could I possibly say to that? Unless I believed he was a master manipulator like stupid Caleb thought he was, which I didn’t, he loved me and he had just told me a slew of the kindest things that had ever been said to me, not to mention everything he’d said and done for me in the last twenty-four hours. Finally, I answered, “I don’t know if I can ever love you back knowing what I do. But I don’t believe you’d ever hurt me and I care too much about you to let you go.”

“Then I’d like a chance to atone for what I’ve done and to spend some of what remains of my short life with you, however much time you’re willing to give me.”

I was crying a fucking river by this point and had been crying since this conversation first started. My voice was absolutely raw from it. “Okay.”

Chase blinked in shock and his eyebrows shot up. “Okay?”

I nodded and he kissed both my hands, then stood slowly, as if he feared startling me. Maybe that was fair, I probably looked extremely on-edge and I was. He raised his right hand painfully slowly, but I didn’t move away as he stroked my cheek with it. “I’d like to kiss you,” he whispered.

His breath tasted of tea and faintly of the merlot we’d shared when he spoke so close to my lips. When we’d fucked on the counter in the tea room, he had still smelled of my shampoo and I wondered if he still did, wanting him to be _mine_. “I’d like that too.”

His eyes softened and he leaned in to kiss me, soft and slow, so gentle it made my insides clench with emotion and want. His hand loosened to cup my cheek and I laid my own hand over it to hold it there. All the breath left my lungs and my free hand tightened on the edge of the counter to keep me steady. Chase’s left hand closed on my hip and he whispered, “I’ve got you, baby.” Then he kissed me again and I believed him, that he had me and would keep me standing, even after the things he’d done that had broken me down. I began to cry openly, my face reddening in shame at the fact that I was crying on the shoulder of my brother’s killer. But that wasn’t all he was and he reminded me of that when he whispered, “Shh, I’ve got you,” and kissed the tears from my cheeks. My hands went to his shoulders, gripping tight to keep myself steady, to find some semblance of control as the world spun around me, around us. “Breathe, baby,” Chase whispered. I took a breath in, not having realized how long it had been since I did that. No wonder I was light-headed. “If you ever trust me again, I’d like to go with you to Cadillac Mountain and see that sunrise. Tell me what it looks like.”

“It’s…” I stumbled over the words, but couldn’t help answering him. “The earth is all in black and indigo and grey and the water is just as dark, but the sunrise is this…riot of color. Orange and gold and pink. It reflects off the waves like shards of gold. And all you can hear is the waves on the rocks and the birds waking up, like Bar Harbor and all those people down below aren’t even there. It’s just you and the sunrise.”

“I want to see that,” Chase said softly. The tiniest nudge on my hip reeled me into his arms and he held me, his body so warm and safe around mine. He smoothed a lock of my hair through his fingers and released it. “And I want to see it with you. I want to see if there’s a bit of that sunrise that matches your hair just right, somewhere in the pinks and golds.”

My breath was coming easier without me having to think about it and I realized what he’d just done, that he’d just talked me down from a panic attack. I hadn’t had one of those since the one-year anniversary of Dan’s death and they had always been crippling. Not this one. Chase had known exactly what to say and do. “Thank you,” I whispered. “I didn’t even feel that coming on.”

He kissed my hair. “It was a lot to take in at once. I get them all the time.”

I frowned. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He sighed wearily. “I get wrapped up thinking about…dying or…the things I’ve done. Or I have flashbacks to the fire.”

“How did you survive?”

“Luck,” he answered bitterly. “Whether it was good or bad luck, I don’t know. My skin was melting off of me and I could fucking smell it and hear it sizzling.” A shudder wracked him. “But there wasn’t any organ damage and some people’s hearts give out from the pain but mine didn’t. I was still full of adrenaline, that was probably what got me away from the barn. My charbroiled ass walked to Gloucester Memorial.”

From Putnam barn…to Gloucester Memorial. My stomach churned and I pulled back to look at him, but he wouldn’t meet my gaze. “I’ve seen those burns, all of them. In that condition, you _walked_ to the hospital? That would have taken you hours. And Gloucester doesn’t even have a burn unit, what did they…?”

An utterly humorless smile tugged at his lips. “No, they don’t. They airlifted me to Boston. All they gave me was painkillers and emergency response treatment. I passed out in the woods long enough to get dirt and leaves in my wounds, but otherwise I was awake right up until the burn unit in Boston put me out to work on me. It was…hell.”

Sickness twisted at my guts as I asked, “Couldn’t you have Used to dull the pain or heal yourself or something?”

“Yeah, but that would bring Caleb down on me. He and I have more Power than the others and we can sense when other Sons are Using nearby. I was afraid that he would sense me and know that I was alive and where to find me. I couldn’t have fought him off if that had happened.”

That sickness only worsened and my hand went unconsciously to my hip, remembering that pain just as acutely as I’d felt it years ago. And those were little cigarette burns. Chase had severe burns over nearly half of his body, all sustained at once, and he’d been _walking around with them_ for hours before he got painkillers and medical treatment because he was too afraid of Caleb to call an ambulance or heal himself. Chase dropped one hand to mine on my hip and said softly, “Don’t think about it. It’s done and I deserved what I got.”

“I don’t think so. No one deserves that.”

He pressed a kiss to my forehead and whispered, “That’s because you’re the kindest and most understanding person in the world. You should’ve seen the Sons today. They were split two and two on killing me and all of them entertained physically harming me.”

Anger rushed through me at that and I gripped him a little tighter. “_They _can go to hell for all I care. They’ve been lying to me pretending to be nice to me for years knowing that Dan didn’t overdose. They did more to cover it up than you and Caleb had the balls to show up at the funeral and look me in the eyes and offer his condolences. I swear, those guys have an unmarked graveyard of so-called enemies somewhere…I sometimes think that if I knew their secrets, they’d sell my organs and put me in an unmarked grave too.” Chase stiffened like a gargoyle and a chill went through me. “You agree with me?”

He nodded and held me just a bit tighter, resting his chin on my shoulder. He was facing the door and I wondered if he was imagining Caleb and the rest of them coming through it. “They don’t need money, so I don’t think they’d go to the trouble of selling your organs, but…they were taught to uphold the Covenant at all costs. They might have killed Dan if I hadn’t, to be honest.” He stroked my back soothingly at that and my heart ached just a bit more. He sighed then and said, “And stupid Aaron Abbot is now bitching to all of Ipswich that I’m in town and with you. That alone is going to freak Caleb right the fuck out and when he finds out I’ve told you things…”

“There’s no reason he should find that out,” I said softly. “There’s no way he could unless you or I said something to suggest it and I think we’re both smart enough not to do that. And if their main goal is not to Use, they’re going to have a hard time hurting me.”

“And why’s that?”

I chuckled, then answered, “I’m from the state of Maine. I was raised to love firearms.”

Chase pulled back and stared at me in surprise. “Seriously? I have to see this.”

I glanced at the timer above the oven to find that we had five minutes, then led him to the gun safe in my bedroom closet. Chase leaned against the edge of the bed as I entered the code and opened the door. I stepped back then so he could see inside and heard the intake of breath before the “holy shit.”

I selected my compact from the handgun rack and loaded it, then slid it into my boot holster. Chase watched as I strapped the holster just above my ankle, then pulled on my favorite boots for this particular job. 

“And if…you’re not wearing boots?”

“I have a thigh holster that hides perfectly under a dress and baggy sweaters that can hide my hip or back holsters.” I smirked at his open-mouthed stare. “You’re not the only one who can be scary.”

Chase’s eyes darted back to the gun safe, then to me again. “You own…six firearms? What do you need six firearms for?”

“They all do different things,” I said with a shrug. I grabbed one of my larger handguns and showed it to him. “Like this. Too big to hide on my body, but it fits in my purse and has way better stopping power than my compact. And I haven’t hunted since I lived in Maine, but that’s what a few of these are for.”

Chase raised an eyebrow, looking into the safe again. “And that really fucking huge handgun?”

I shrugged. “We have a lot of bear and moose in Maine. That’s the kind of thing you carry in the woods in case you run into one.”

“It’s a…moose handgun. You own that in case you need to take on a _moose_ with a _handgun_.”

“Yep. Scared yet?”

“Very. And quite happy to be.” He reached out and caught me by the hips, tugging me towards him to stand between his knees. He studied my hair as he ran his fingers through it, saying, “I’ve been worrying myself sick about you and forgetting just how tough you are. Why don’t you keep one of these in the tea room? Or wear one while you’re working?”

“After what happened today, I definitely will,” I said, more than a little irritated at the memory of stupid Aaron threatening me and scaring the shit out of me. “I’ve never had a problem in the tea room before. It’s not really the kind of place anyone thinks to hold up.”

“I’ll feel better knowing you have something up your sleeve.” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully and one corner of his mouth quirked upwards. “You know, I’m renting a cabin on the edge of town with a bit of land. It might be a good place for you to demonstrate that moose handgun. I’m curious.”

I laughed. “The tea room’s closed on Mondays and my schedule is clear.”

“Excellent. Do you use…what? Paper targets?”

“You’ll see.”

I locked up the gun safe then and we returned to the kitchen where the pot pie was ready to come out and rest. I placed it on the rack carefully, then moved to my wine rack. “At the risk of having way too much wine in twenty-four hours, I could really use one more glass.” I produced my favorite chardonnay, which Chase eyed curiously. In response to his unasked question, I said, “I’m allowed to enjoy a range of wines, just like I enjoy a range of teas. A dark red wouldn’t be right with chicken pot pie.”

“Very true.” He watched me uncork the bottle and retrieve two wineglasses. I poured and handed off his glass, then immediately took a very deep drink from mine. Chase mirrored my action, then said weakly, “Good idea.”

We sat at the counter enjoying our wine and pot pie together. There was little conversation. We were both on-edge from the weight of everything that had already been said and the tension was palpable. I ate little and drank far more than “one more glass.” Chase had a second glass and no troubles eating, taking a large second helping of pot pie and, when I caught him eyeing the dish and told him to enjoy, a third.

When we were finished, Chase insisted on cleaning up while I sat and relaxed. Then, he put on the kettle and produced one tea mug. “For you,” he explained when I raised an eyebrow. His back had been to me while he was doing the dishes and now that he was facing me again, I could see the tensions in his expression. He came around the counter and, telegraphing the movement, brushed his fingertips along the side of my face. His eyes were like steel-blue walls and his jaw was tense. Softly, he said, “Thank you for dinner and for everything else. I don’t deserve it, and I’m grateful.” I didn’t know what to say to that or to his guarded expression. After a moment, he whispered, “I love you,” then began to step backwards towards the apartment door. 

Stunned, I could only watch him go. When he reached the door and unbolted it, I said, “Chase. Where are you going?”

He stood in the doorway with the night sky ready to envelope him. He smiled wryly. “I really shouldn’t have stayed this long. I’ve given you a lot to think about and I shouldn’t be the one to help you through it, as much as I’d like to be. Goodnight, Ember.”

Before I had a chance to respond, he had vanished, the door shutting behind him. Frowning deeply at his abrupt departure, I stood and went to the door to try and follow him, but when I opened it, the alley below was already deserted. And, I realized, I had no way to contact him, nor knowledge of where he was going. Any future conversation would happen on his terms.

“Damn it,” I hissed. Inside, the kettle began to whistle and I returned to it, bolting the door behind me.


	12. Entitlement

Chase all but ran to get to his Jaguar and speed out of Ipswich, not surprised at all to see the Mustang quickly pick up the trail and follow him. He pulled over at the side of a stretch of abandoned road a few miles out of town and got out, taking a deep breath as he turned to watch Caleb get out of the Mustang and stalk towards him, eyes black. “What the fuck are you doing?” Caleb growled. “If you tell me that Ember Edricson is the girl you fucked last night, I’m going to kill you.”

“It’s none of your business,” Chase warned him, fists clenching. This was bad. So, so bad.

“None of my business? You murdered her brother, you sick fuck!”

“I am very aware of that fact!” Chase snapped at him. He felt raw enough right now and feeling Caleb Using to find him while he’d been sitting next to Ember had scared the shit out of him. The last thing he wanted was her standing between him and Caleb and that was exactly where she had almost been. “I am aware and it is eating me up inside, apparently unlike you, you self-righteous prick!” That stopped Caleb in his tracks and Chase snorted. “Yeah, you’re not always the hero, are you? Sometimes you play the coward and you watch a girl torture herself wondering why her beloved brother didn’t tell her he was doing drugs and then you lie to her face and tell her you’re sorry for her loss and you had no idea. At least I have an excuse for not coming clean sooner. I was half-dead in a burn unit in Boston while you attended his funeral and offered your shit-ass condolences to her!”

“Chase, you’re the one who killed him!” Caleb said incredulously. “Do you hear yourself? Are you really going to spin your bullshit and try to tell me you would have apologized and told her the truth?”

Chase gritted his teeth. “Maybe I did apologize.”

The black evaporated from Caleb’s eyes and he actually took a step back in shock. “You what?”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t break your stupid Covenant,” Chase snarled. He was at the end of his rope, had been for years now, and he was sick of Caleb’s shit. “I left out the _witchy_ _crap_ and replaced it with partial truths. But otherwise, she knows everything. And except for upsetting her by telling her and except for what I did five years ago, I have done absolutely nothing to hurt her. Unlike you. You’ve been strutting around like some kind of god pretending to be her friend for _five years_ and I’m willing to bet that you’ve only done it to keep your stupid Covenant and work out what Dan did or didn’t tell her.” Caleb scowled and opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again. Rage boiled in Chase’s veins. “So, that’s a ‘yes.’ You didn’t give a shit about her, just about what she knew. The funny part is that she didn’t know anything and she didn’t trust you for one minute. She hates you more than she hates me, you and the rest of the dickheads you call _brothers_. So, you can take your savior complex and shove it up your ass! You’re not saving anyone except yourself!”

Caleb flinched, then scowled at Chase again. “You _murdered her brother_ and you’re, what, dating her? Fucking her? You’re playing with her mind like it’s a toy! It’s sick and I’m not going to stand for it.”

Chase laughed, again catching Caleb off-guard. “You don’t know her at all, do you? No one plays with that girl’s mind. She’s smarter than I am and a hell of a lot smarter than you. That’s part of why I told her. She already knew most of the story just from you spouting bullshit in a bar the other night!” Caleb’s eyes went wide and Chase laughed again. “You’re such an idiot! She didn’t trust you so she pumped you for information and you thought she was just a pretty girl whose head was created to hold up her pretty hair, so you gave her everything she asked for. This morning, I admitted to her that I was dying and that was all it took. She knew exactly the questions to ask and I wasn’t going to lie to her. She had almost everything in ten minutes of asking me questions. All I had to do was confirm it.”

“Chase, she can’t know…”

“About your stupid Covenant?” Chase asked with every bit of scorn he was feeling. “Oh, I know, and she doesn’t. But if she did, it wouldn’t be the first time a Son of Ipswich told a girl his secrets, would it?” Caleb flushed and a wide smile stretched its way across Chase’s expression. “That’s what I thought. Sarah knew _everything_ and no one was hunting you down threatening to punish you. And every generation of our fucking families was created by _witches_ who married women that _they told_ or that found out eventually because of the aging. So I told the truth to a woman who deserved to know how her brother died. I came clean about the fact that _I did it._ I promised to protect her _from you_. And if I did tell her about the _Covenant_, I would not be the first to do so. In fact, if I live long enough to find a woman to stay with permanently, I’m going to have to tell her at some point, just like every single one of my ancestors did. So, I’ll say again, take your savior complex and shove it up your ass.”

That scowl came back and Caleb said, “Chase, you’re out of line.”

He couldn’t help it. That suggestion was so ridiculous that he started laughing like a maniac at Caleb voicing it. When he regained enough control to respond, his chest aching from the laughter, he said, “I was never in line! That’s the whole point of all of this! _My_ family has been _out of line_ for hundreds of years! I’m not sure I even count as a Son of Ipswich, technically! I have never been a part of the Covenant and I have never wanted to be, so why should I abide by your rules?”

“Those rules are in place to protect all of us and if you won’t abide by them, I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” Chase snapped, the laughter draining from him to be replaced by rage again. His fists clenched and when Caleb’s eyes flashed to black, he knew his had first. “You’ll kill me? I’m tired of being threatened, Caleb. We fought once and you beat me once and you beat me by catching me off-guard with your father’s Power. Want to see how you do a second time around?” He shook his fists once and orbs of flame engulfed them, creating no heat on the inside, but very real fire on the outside. All the hate he felt for Caleb was boiling over and he found himself very much hoping this did become a fight. With a smile that felt every bit as evil as Caleb thought he was, Chase said, “Maybe you want some scars to match mine.”

“No matter what you say, we both know you’ll lose again,” Caleb warned, hands outstretched, placating. 

“I think we should test that.”

An engine growled in the distance and grew closer. As the vehicle approached the bend in the road, Chase extinguished the fireballs he had been looking forward to throwing at Caleb. A motorcycle whipped around the bend and Chase started laughing again. “Pogue?” he asked Caleb, who said nothing. “I should’ve expected him sooner. You knew there would be decisions to make and you called your hubby here to help you make them.”

“This concerns him just as much as it does me,” Caleb said as Pogue parked the motorcycle behind the Mustang and dismounted.

A grin found its way onto his face. He had zero control over his emotions lately because everything felt so raw and he knew that at any moment he could die and nothing he said would have mattered. So, he just rolled with it and, laughing again, said to Caleb, “Pogue’s not the one she said she’d kill if I didn’t make it back from the barn today.”

Caleb’s eyes drained of black in his surprise. In that moment, Pogue removed his helmet and came up beside Caleb, glaring daggers at Chase. “What the hell is this? I thought we settled things at the barn.”

Before Caleb could reply, Chase directed his grin at Pogue. “We were just talking about our love lives. I wouldn’t have bothered you with it…you were probably having a quiet evening with Kate, right?”

“Don’t talk about Kate,” Pogue growled. “Say her name again and I will kill you. Caleb, what is it?”

Caleb shook his head at Chase in a scolding way that almost made him laugh again. This was all such bullshit. Before Caleb could answer, Chase cut in again. “Caleb found out who my new girl is and was concerned for her safety.” The words had him laughing again, thinking of Ember’s fierce nature and her gun collection. “Not that she’s the kind of girl who needs protecting. If she thought I deserved it, I’d be dead already.”

Pogue looked to Caleb, whose jaw hardened. “Ember Edricson.” 

Immediately, Pogue spun on Chase, dropping his helmet in favor of wrapping both hands around his neck and shoving him up against the side of the Jaguar. “Of all the girls you could have manipulated or bought with your dead parents’ money, you picked the one whose brother you killed?!”

His hands were loose enough to be constricting but not choking and Chase laughed as he gained his footing and adjusted his grip on Pogue’s hands. He would need it if Pogue did decide to take things further. Another laugh bubbled up from his chest and he said, “I didn’t manipulate her or buy her, unless taking her to a nice restaurant counts. And I’m offended that you think I need to buy girls.”

Pogue was glaring at him worse now, though. “With that face, I’m sure all you’ve gotten in five years has been from girls you bought,” he growled.

The laughter died and all the bitterness he was used to feeling took its place. He glared right back at Pogue and said, “Didn’t bother. Paid girls aren’t always trained well at hiding shock or disgust and I get enough of that day-to-day, thank you.”

“Then go fuck yourself, like you’ve been doing for five years, and leave the poor girl alone. She’s been through enough.”

“I am very aware of what she has been through and I’m also aware of how _kind_ you idiots were to her. You were only around to make sure she didn’t know what really happened to Dan. She knew that and she didn’t trust you for one minute. What would you have done if you’d decided she knew something important?” Pogue frowned and looked to Caleb for guidance, but Caleb had his face buried in his hand. “I’m asking _you_,” Chase snapped at him, bringing his eyes back to his. “What would you have done if she knew something important? Something that would have reopened Dan’s case? Or brought her to one of your doors asking questions? Would you have told her about the Covenant and just hoped she kept quiet?” Pogue hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. It was all the confirmation that Chase’s rage-addled brain needed and Pogue’s hands had loosened. He wrenched the hands away and gave Pogue a kick right in the gut that sent him stumbling backwards and onto his ass in the road. As Pogue gasped for air and Caleb’s eyes darkened to black, Chase stood up straight again. The rage hardened his jaw and his fists and he felt the Power humming through him, begging for release. “You expected her to trust you when you wouldn’t trust her enough to tell her that her brother didn’t kill himself. And if she’d known he didn’t, you would have silenced her rather than trust her with the truth. It’s funny, really. Five years ago, I was the bad guy and now it’s you bastards. I killed Dan for what he knew and you would have killed Ember if she knew. How sick is that? At least Dan posed an actual threat to me. He would have turned me over to you to kill me. Not her. Her knowing risks no one, but you wouldn’t have told her. You’d have _killed her_.” The rage bubble right over and Chase stomped a foot, shattered the pavement beneath him in spiderwebbing shards out around them. A particularly rough crack tipped Pogue’s motorcycle over and he glared at Chase, apparently more concerned about his stupid bike than about Ember’s well-being. Well, fuck him. Chase ground his teeth together and raised both hands, lifting the motorcycle into the air high above them. Caleb appeared to have been ready to throw an energy ball or something, but now that Pogue’s giant, overpriced motorcycle was twenty feet above them, he hesitated. Of course. Entitled rich boys and their toys. Chase shifted the motorcycle in the air so it hovered directly above the Mustang. “I hope you realize how pathetic this is. I am threatening your stupid motorcycle and your stupid car. If you want them unharmed, you’ll swear on your stupid Covenant to stay away from Ember.”

“Chase. We’re responsible for the safety of the people in Ipswich and for keeping the Covenant,” Caleb said slowly. “If we think she’s in danger, we have to act.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And if you think she knows something that could break the Covenant?”

“For fuck’s sake, you’re manipulating her and torturing her!” Pogue snapped, finding his feet. “All you have to do is leave her alone.”

Chase narrowed his eyes and raised the motorcycle a few feet higher so it would cause more damage when it dropped. Pogue visibly twitched. “I’m not manipulating her or torturing her.” There was a thought. He titled his head curiously and amended, “Not counting certain…activities that she asked for.” Caleb groaned. “She knows that I killed Dan. She knows more about it than you assholes do. I’m not exactly on perfect terms with her, but I’m not walking away and she doesn’t want me to. I’d say you can ask her, but I don’t actually want you anywhere _near_ her knowing how you operate. So…” He dropped the motorcycle five feet, causing both Caleb and Pogue to flinch, then caught it again. “What are we thinking? I don’t have all night.”

“We’re not going to hurt her,” Caleb conceded, hands outstretched. Pogue nodded his agreement. Both their eyes were clear of Power, trying to show a lack of threat.

And it made him sick. The rage boiled hotter and hotter inside him, bubbling up in his chest. Wrecking their vehicles had certainly been tempting, but not a plan. Until now. He dropped his hands and the motorcycle plummeted. Their eyes went black as if to stop it, but it fell far too fast for that, plunging through the roof and hood of the Mustang and leaving both vehicles a mangled mess. As Caleb and Pogue stared at the carnage, Chase said darkly, “You would make a bullshit half-promise that you won’t hurt an innocent woman in an attempt to save _your car and your bike._ Are you fucking kidding me? What kind of heroes are you? You were raised with wealth and privilege and magic and you think that your stuff is worth more than the lives around you. You can tell me I killed my adoptive parents for their money all you want and it won’t be true. I _caused a car crash by accident_ and I let it happen because all I could hear in my head was them telling me over and over that none of it was mine, that I had to earn their love and their money and their support. And you assholes took everything you had for granted and look where it got you. It got you here, making deals with me to spare an innocent woman _in exchange_ _for your stuff._ Fuck you and your entitled bullshit. If I catch you anywhere near Ember, I’m going break something a little more valuable to you than your vehicle.”

As he turned his back on them and opened the driver’s door of the Jaguar, Caleb growled at him, “Chase. This isn’t over.”

He looked over his shoulder and smiled. “You’re right. Someone still has to find a cure for Reed because you can’t be bothered. Or did you mean that you’re going to crush my car now as retribution? If so, let me get my phone out of the cupholder…those are so annoying to replace.”

They had nothing to say to that and his smile widened as he got in the Jag and pulled away, whipping around them to drive back towards town and the forest beyond it. He wasn’t sure where he was going and it didn’t particularly matter. He was in control now.


	13. Compasses and Options

Chase ultimately decided to go back to the cabin and drink tea alone, thinking of Ember. He wanted to go back to Ipswich, back to her, but what he’d said to her as he left was true. He needed to give her space to process everything. He was not the right person to help her through that. He did look up on his phone what time The Hatter’s would be opening the next morning, though, and set an alarm that would get him there at seven when she unlocked the doors.

On Sunday morning, it was raining heavily from a gloomy, grey sky. Out of spite towards Caleb, Chase Used to clear puddles from the road as he drove so he wouldn’t have to worry about hydroplaning on the curves. It was petty and he knew it did more lasting damage to him than to Caleb, but he was a petty person and willing to admit that about himself. In Ipswich, mist hung low over the harbor, hiding the fishing boats from view. Being only seven in the morning on a Sunday, he had his pick of parking chose a spot one building down from The Hatter’s, leaving the front row parking for Ember’s regulars when they arrived. She probably got a before and after church rush, another reason he was here so early. He wanted to be here when the tea room would be quiet. He checked the time, 7:04, then got out of the Jaguar.

The little bell rang over the door as he entered the tea room and he paused just inside to shake the rain out of his hair. The movement gave him the chance to see Bucky stalking him from underneath a nearby table and he waved at the massive cat before turning his eyes forward once more. Ember was watching him with concern and came around the counter to meet him when he approached. “I’m glad you’re here…I was worried about you last night,” she said quietly. “You left so suddenly…I hope you didn’t do anything stupid.”

That brought a crooked smile out of him. “Well, I did wreck Caleb’s car and Pogue’s motorcycle, but both vehicles were parked and empty at the time, so I’m not sure where that falls on the ‘stupid spectrum.’”

Ember raised an eyebrow. “Is that going to bite you in the ass?”

“No. Only you’re allowed to bite my ass.” He winked and she blushed, shaking her head. She moved back around the counter and began prepping a cup of tea, apparently for him. When her face was mostly turned away, he was able to glimpse a smirk she’d been hiding and it warmed him right to his bones. “I was worried about you too,” he said, his smile falling as the guilt crept back. It had crushed him to watch her break down yesterday, to watch her crumble into a panic attack, and to know it was his fault. He had destroyed her five years ago and he did it again when he told her everything and opened up old wounds.

“I was perfectly safe,” she said with her back to him, apparently too busy operating her frother to look at him.

His chest tightened. “That’s not what I was worried about and you know it. I think you were right that they’re not going to Use on you and that means you can protect yourself just fine.”

Ember sighed and poured foam into the mug, a black one with a night sky printed on it. She faced him then and offered him the mug, which he took. The scent of bergamot and vanilla wafted up at him, instantly soothing his nerves. Ember looked at him, her brown eyes sad. “Maybe you’re right that I needed to work through it all without you, but that meant I was doing it alone. I have acquaintances, but no true friends here, no family. There’s no one I’d trust to cry on.” She shut her eyes, perhaps remembering yesterday, remembering him holding her and kissing her tears away. As he’d been doing it, he’d been expecting her to push him away and when she hadn’t, that had upset him even more because it showed him just how broken she was that she needed _him _of all people right then. Ember sighed. “No one except you. Everything about this is so strange. I don’t know what’s right or wrong anymore.”

He set aside the tea mug and leaned on the counter, careful not to lean _forward_ and encroach on her. His chest was tight again and he tried to regulate his breathing to keep his heart in check. The last thing he needed right now was for it to murmur and send him to the floor, a pathetic and real concern. “I’m the last person to give advice on that. My moral compass doesn’t exactly point to True North. I do know that the world isn’t black and white, though. You have to find your own way.”

She nodded slowly, then broke his gaze and produced a tea mug of her own that she sipped at. Her mug was also black today with white roses in place of stars. Bucky leapt up onto the counter from nowhere and she petted him as if he was incapable of startling her. Chase was wishing she’d put a bell on him. After several minutes of quiet, save for Bucky’s unsettlingly loud purring, Ember said softly, “Maybe my moral compass doesn’t point north either.” The words surprised and confused him and when she met his eyes, there was a sort of cool darkness in them. He realized then that the hand that wasn’t petting Bucky was on her left hip.

Darkness crept up on him too from where it hid coiled up next to his soul and his eyes were locked on her hand on her hip as he asked, “Who did that to you?”

“An asshole,” she said, her voice low and a little dangerous. “He was acquitted. He’s out of my life, far away from here, but sometimes that’s not enough for me to sleep at night.”

The Power howled inside of him, certain that Chase could track him down and give him the justice he deserved. A growl escaped him as he asked, “Where is he? Maine?”

Ember smiled darkly. “Wouldn’t you like to know. I don’t know where he is, haven’t seen him since the acquittal. That was almost ten years ago now.” Not her father, then, though he had given her bruises at some point. She had seen _him_ at Dan’s funeral. She would have seen most of her family there, in fact, which probably ruled out uncles unless they were black sheep who weren’t welcome or didn’t show. Ember’s eyes sparked as she watched the wheels turn in his head, then she answered fully. “He was my boyfriend at the time. He was a chain-smoker and I hated it. I had a lot of reasons to break up with him, and when I did it, he didn’t want to let me go. He tried to scare me into staying, which was exactly what I’d been afraid of. He knew I hated his smoking and said he was marking me as his.” Chase’s hands locked on the edge of the counter and he idly wondered if his jaw was strong enough to shatter his teeth. He was close to finding out the hard way. “When I went to the hospital, I told them who did it and they called the police. I didn’t want him anywhere near me again. But he was a good liar and a spoiled rich boy whose dad was happy to pay a better lawyer than mine would. There was evidence I’d been abused, ‘torture’ was what my lawyer charged him with, but there was no evidence it was him who did it except my testimony. Ironically, his lawyer won the case by suggesting that my dad had done it. My ex had seen him hit me once and testified to that in court. My father was furious, but it was too late. He was acquitted and he disappeared, giving my father no one to blame but me.”

Chase ground his teeth and the sound echoed in his head. “If you tell me he raised a hand to you for that…”

Ember smiled tightly. “He raised a hand to me for just about everything, Chase. Not that it matters now. I haven’t seen my dad in five years and Liam in…nine? Nine years. As for what Liam did…getting the tattoos helped, marking myself as mine, not his. Moving helped. Sometimes, though, I wonder what I would do if I ever saw him again.” She tilted her head just slightly and he realized that when she’d come around the counter, she’d been wearing the same boots as last night, the ones that hid her gun so well. “That’s how I know my compass doesn’t point north. Cute girls who make tea all day aren’t supposed to think about putting bullets in their exes.”

“That’s a lot kinder than the things I’m thinking of doing to him,” Chase growled. And it was true. Her father too. He’d love to string them both up and show them every ounce of pain they’d given her and more. He could put out a hundred cigarettes on _Liam_ without batting an eye.

One corner of Ember’s mouth curved upward and she gave Bucky one last stroke of his back, then crooked her finger at Chase. He went around the counter, powerless to resist her will, but moved stiffly, struggling to contain his fury. Ember remained where she’d been until he got within arm’s reach. Then she gently pushed him so his back was to the counter right where he’d fucked her yesterday. His nerves sang as he thought of that and he could tell from the look in her eyes that her placement of him was entirely deliberate. He gripped the counter with both hands and she stood between his feet and laid her own hands over his, their fingers intertwining. Her eyes were dark and molten and her heeled boots made them about the same height so she could easily look him in the eye. “I’m not going to help you find him,” she said quietly. “I’m not going to let you hurt him if I can stop it. But I love knowing that you would do that for me.”

It took everything in him to bottle up what he really wanted to say and, instead, to lean in and whisper in her ear, “I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to, but if it were up to me, he would die screaming. You’re an angel and I would very happily kill him for doing that to you. And you are _not_ his. You belong to you alone and it makes me sick that he would mark you against your will.”

She turned her head and very softly sank her teeth into the side of his neck. A jolt went right to his core and a growl escaped him. “You should know, marks are very important to me and after the marks other men have left on me, the ones _you_ leave on me make me very happy.”

She was wearing a scarf with blue roses printed on it and at her words, he brushed her hair back and carefully pushed the scarf down to her shoulder. She tilted her head to give him a better view of the violet bruises along her neck, some of them complete with teeth marks. Something primal and possessive in him loved them and wanted to put more on her, but another part of him could see that they had hurt, might still hurt, and it upset him, especially knowing that they weren’t the first marks she’d gotten that caused her pain. He replaced the scarf precisely as she’d had it and was ready to apologize, but she laid a finger on his lips to stop him, just barely smiling. “Chase,” she said softly, “I wanted them. I told you I did, you know I did. And even after last night, I’m glad I have them.”

He definitely wanted to protest to that, but just then the bell above the door rang and Ember transformed into the welcoming, happy tea room proprietor he’d first met what felt like a lifetime ago. Had it really only been a few days? He covertly reached past her to grab his London Fog and retreated to what had become his customary spot by the fireplace. Bucky approached and, when Chase set down his mug on the coffee table, the cat leapt up and stalked towards it. It was a good thing The Hatter’s was filled with sturdy furnishings because Bucky was not light or graceful. Remembering Ember’s warning about him being a tea drinker, Chase grabbed the mug again and shot a warning glare at Bucky, who glared right back and refused to leave the coffee table, his massive paws splayed out in front of him, showing off six toes on each front foot. Chase raised an eyebrow and made a mental note to ask Ember if that was a normal Maine Coon thing or just a Bucky thing. With Bucky glowering at him so fiercely, it occurred to Chase that the cat lived exclusively in the tea room, not Ember’s apartment, and he was quite happy about that. After the things he’d done to Ember on Friday night, he was pretty sure the cat would have decided to smother him in his sleep and, based on Bucky’s size, it would have been an entirely feasible task.

Ember did have a rush of regulars coming and going before and after the mass times for the various churches in Ipswich, including a busy brunch time. Chase watched her with interest that turned to wonder as the tea room got busier and she moved faster, but never became flustered or broke character. Eventually, he concluded that it wasn’t a performance at all, though it may have started out that way this morning. No, she genuinely enjoyed running the tea room that much and got a sense of happiness and accomplishment from doing it and doing it alone. He had been considering getting up to help her in some way, but when he realized that, a fond smile crept across his face and he settled back in. Instead, he remained cradling his mug to guard the last of his tea from Bucky, who was still on the coffee table hours later scowling. Chase had to admit that Bucky’s eyes were a very beautiful shade of gold, even if he didn’t appreciate their ability to convey such ire. With a great deal of discomfort, Chase realized that Bucky _had_ been present when he’d fucked Ember in the tea room yesterday and he wondered where exactly the cat had been at the time. Knowing his ominous personality, Chase was pretty sure he hadn’t been taking a nap in the back room. More likely he’d been on top of the bookcase glaring down at them through the shadows. Chase thought of Ember’s Stephen King collection and it occurred to him that Bucky was a very suitable cat for such a faithful reader of the modern king of all things ominous.

When the rush died and Ember left the counter to put another log on the fire, she paused in surprise at finding it roaring merrily. She must have realized Chase had been tending to it, because she spun around and caught him sneaking behind the counter to prepare a fresh cup of her favorite English Breakfast for her. She narrowed her eyes at him, but when he smiled innocently, she blushed and smiled too, then proceeded to sweep the café area. With warmth expanding like an orb inside his chest, Chase left her the tea to add milk and sugar to since he hadn’t had a chance to watch her do it and learn how much she put in. Then, he moved back towards the fireplace, rolling his eyes at Bucky licking the foam from the inside lip of his mug. He made no move to confiscate it, though, counting it as a peace offering. “I wanted to help, but I think I would have gotten in the way,” he said to Ember.

“I’ve always worked alone,” she said. “I’m kind of used to it.”

“And you like it that way.”

“I do,” she admitted. “I’d be a terrible employer and I’ve been a terrible employee. I do best when it’s all on me alone, no one to impress or be accountable to.”

“And it’s all yours,” he said, gesturing to the tea room at large. She smiled and nodded, proceeding to the garbage to empty her dustpan. “I envy you.”

The smile turned to a grin. “Open a business. It’s a lot of work, but yeah, it’s very rewarding. It’s nice to have something that’s all yours, something to wake up for every day.”

“That sounds nice,” he said, thinking about her words carefully. It did sound nice. Very nice. Even if he didn’t find a way to stop the aging, he had a few years, right? After last night, he had developed doubts that the Sons of Ipswich really would kill him, which meant he had more time than he’d thought. Maybe this would be something meaningful he could do with that time. He’d already done plenty of travelling and was running out of things to do before he died. That was why he’d been willing to kill himself if Caleb refused to help him. And maybe Ember would let him hang around her for a while. He hated to assume that, though, when he’d given her so many reasons to push him away and very few to keep him. He did so badly want something that was _his_, and he had startup capital. It was an idea, a good one. What would a business owned by him even look like, though? He hardly even had hobbies. His adoptive parents had never let him have hobbies, berating him for wasting his time when he tried to start one. There was swimming, of course, which almost qualified as a hobby and which he’d been allowed to pursue because it was ‘useful.’ He wasn’t sure how that could possibly translate into a business, though. Maybe if he moved south and learned how to scuba dive or something. After a while, he admitted to Ember, “I have no idea what I’d even open.” 

Ember checked her soups, nodding in satisfaction at what she found, then turned to brew a fresh pot of tea for the one customer besides him in the tea room, a woman bent over a romance novel by the front windows. “Hey, enjoying tea was all it took for me to open a tea room. It might be simpler than you think.”

“Maybe.” He sat and watched her some more, then locked eyes with Bucky, who had licked up everything he could reach out of Chase’s mug. “You’re greedy thing, aren’t you?” he said to the cat. Bucky scowled and lumbered off. “Ember, do you actually feed him cat food or does he just scavenge?”

“He has food and water dishes in the back, but he hardly uses them…he prefers scones and deli meat from the finger sandwiches,” she answered, returning from refilling the romance reader’s tea mug. “His favorite thing is clam chowder. It’s probably a very unhealthy lifestyle for him, but he’s happy and he doesn’t have any health problems, at least not yet.”

“How old is he?”

“Six. I think the record age for a cat is twenty-six, so he’s got plenty of time.” Ember smirked at him and reached down to pet Bucky as he streaked past her. Chase was pretty sure if he did that, he’d lose a hand, though Bucky had liked him well enough the first time he walked through the door. He must have changed his mind when he realized Chase was courting Ember. “Maybe you should open a pet store,” Ember suggested, partly joking.

Chase snorted. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about that. I’ve never had a pet.”

“Never?” He shrugged and Ember softened. “That’s sad. Have you thought of getting one?”

That bitterness crept back and he shrugged again, giving her a meaningful look. “It doesn’t seem like a good idea right now.”

Ember’s face fell and she moved closer to lean against his armchair. He didn’t like the way she was looking at him, didn’t like knowing how much she still cared about him even after what he’d told her. It didn’t feel fair. He was too damn greedy to push her away, though, especially when Ember reached down and stroked his cheek with her hand. He didn’t know how she kept her hands so damn soft working with hot dishes and whatnot all day, but her hands were heaven and he found himself shutting his eyes and leaning into her touch. “I say Bucky’s six, but I don’t actually know,” she said softly. “He was a shelter cat. Poor guy was jammed into a cage way too small for him, glaring around at all the bright lights and the noises. No one wanted him because he’s so grouchy with strangers when he’s nervous, not like Maine Coons typically are, but I loved him. At that time, I was pretty grouchy with strangers too and we were both Maine transplants, so it kind of fit. You might find someone who fits you too. I think you’re going to be around for quite a while yet, but if you’re so convinced you aren’t, there are a lot of senior pets and pets with health problems that have a really hard time getting adopted.”

He had never considered that and frowned. “Really?”

“Mm-hmm. People are scared of the vet bills or don’t want to invest in a pet that won’t be around long. I’ve often thought about getting a senior cat as a friend for Bucky…it makes me sad to think of older pets who should be lazing around in a sunbeam sleeping in a cage instead.”

That thought made him horribly sad too and a little sick. He’d wanted a dog since he was about four years old and his adoptive parents had forever told him ‘no,’ that their house was too nice for a dog to be trampling around making a mess of things. They’d complained endlessly about a potential dog knocking over expensive objects, scratching the hardwood, leaving nose prints on the windows, tearing up the carpet and the furniture. He’d thought he would finally be able to get one when he turned eighteen, but then he’d learned what the Power was doing to him. It didn’t seem right to get a dog and then have it end up alone in a shelter when he died. That was probably how a lot of the senior pets Ember was talking about got there…they were supposed to grow old with their owners and their owners died first.

“Well, vet bills wouldn’t bother me,” he said wryly, thinking of his obnoxiously large inheritance. It seemed fitting to spend some of it on a dog when the Collins’s had hated the idea of a dog so much. Especially a dog who _needed_ him, who no one else would care for.

“See?” Ember ran her fingers through his hair, then stepped away. “Think outside the box, Chase. You have more options than you think.”

He knew exactly what she meant by ‘options.’ She meant ‘reasons to live,’ and he didn’t know how he felt about how invested she apparently was in his lifespan. He didn’t deserve her.

With a sense of déjà vu, he recalled her words from yesterday. _Whatever any of us have done, we deserve to know what it feels like to be cared for._ He had killed her brother and she knew it, but she was still holding to her words and insisting on caring for him. Was that a forgiving nature? Faithfulness to her word? Denial?

He thought over everything he’d said and done in the last few days, trying to find any gaps where he’d allowed her to think something that wasn’t true of him. The last thing he wanted was to manipulate her, whatever the Sons thought of him. He’d only lied to her the one time about his name, just as he’d told her. He’d omitted things, but then came clean yesterday on…everything. There were of course other things he could tell her, but they weren’t things that would change her opinion of him one way or another, at least he didn’t think they were. Maybe the details of what he’d done to Pogue, Kate, and Sarah. The first thing he’d thought of when Dan had cornered him five years ago was that he wished he knew some sort of memory spell to just erase what he knew. Now he thought of it again and wondered if he could come up with something similar that would help Kate. He hated knowing that she had PTSD because of what he’d done to her. He’d thought she’d been unconscious for the whole spell, but maybe he’d miscalculated it. Or maybe she’d been told after the fact what had happened and her mind had come up with the images itself. Either way, there might be a way to dull those memories and he both wanted to help her and wanted to atone. He shot a quick text to Caleb telling him that if he still had access to the sanctum after last night’s drama, he intended to look for a spell to take the spiders out of Kate’s memory. At the very least, he’d get a decisive response on whether the sanctum was available to him or not.

His mind returned to Ember. Had he manipulated her? Manipulating used to be second nature to him and now, surrounded by his mistakes in Ipswich, it was hard to believe that part of him was gone. But what he’d said to Caleb and Pogue last night had been true. Ember did not have a mind that was easy to manipulate. She had her own way of looking at things and she made her own judgment calls based on that.

And if he wasn’t manipulating her, then this was what she actually wanted. Him sitting in her tea room, his marks on her neck, his words in her ear.

And if he respected her, which he did, then he needed to respect her capacity to make decisions for herself, even if they were decisions he feared she’d regret.

Even if they were decisions about him.

He was still thinking when Ember returned sometime later with a mug of tea for him that hadn’t had a cat tongue inside of it. When he saw her set the mug down in front of him, his heart softened and he looked up at her. She paused, caught in his gaze and looking a little surprised by something in his expression. “If you’re sick of me, you can kick me out, but I’d like to be here when you close,” he said.

Ember quirked an eyebrow and a slow smile stretched across her face. She leaned on the arm of his chair, eyes flicking around the quiet tea room for only a second before they locked again on him. “I’m not going to kick you out and I’d like that very much. In fact, I insist.”

His heart tripped over itself, not having been ready for that. Not only was she not sick of him, but from the look in her eyes she definitely wasn’t meaning that she’d appreciate a hand cleaning up or a bodyguard in case Aaron or anyone else showed up. No, this was definitely for romantic reasons. She watched him recognize this and her smile went just a tiny bit wider, then she sashayed back towards the counter. The counter he had fucked her on yesterday after helping her close.

It didn’t even surprise him when he turned and found Bucky perched on the back of the chair beside him, eyeballing him. He let the cat see his wide-eyed disbelief at Ember’s response, to which Bucky gave a disapproving look and turned his back, settling in with his monstrous tail twitching inches from Chase’s face. Chase raised an eyebrow at this and said to Bucky’s tail, “Lucky for me you’re not in charge around here.”


	14. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy belated Valentine's Day, friends! I spent a large chunk of my Valentine's weekend writing smut, which is as it should be. I hope you enjoy the results.
> 
> SPIDER WARNING: If you have spider issues, be aware that late in this chapter, Chase conjures a single spider for Ember. It does absolutely nothing bad, but it does crawl across her. As you can guess from previous chapters where we learned that she loves spiders, she is perfectly okay with this. If you want to avoid reading this, stop at the paragraph that starts "Chase exhaled in relief..." and pick back up with the paragraph that starts: "Chase leaned in and rested his forehead against mine..."
> 
> ROUGH SMUT WARNING: This chapter also includes a little more evidence of the control kink Ember has in the bedroom and her willingness to use it to please Chase. Everything between these characters will always be consensual and Chase recognizes how much trust Ember places in him and is very careful with it. If you have a control kink or have a partner who does, have fun but be safe.

Chase had been all over the place emotionally that day, so when I told him to stay after close and really threw him for a loop, I decided to give him space. Clearly, he was more upset about everything than I was, at least today.

Last night had been difficult and had involved a lot of tea and little sleep. When I’d determined around midnight that I wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon, I’d gone downstairs to snuggle with Bucky in the armchair Chase had occupied a few days prior. I didn’t have the energy to light the fire, but Bucky was very warm and oozed over my folded legs like a heated blanket, purring as I silently petted his ears and under his chin just like he preferred. His ridiculous tail made a swooshing sound on the floor when he twitched it periodically.

I loved Chase.

The realization came to me as I sat there drinking my tea and trying to work through the tangles in my head. I was very good at spotting liars and bluffers and I had learned his tells already, had made a point of it before I decided to sleep with him on Friday night. I could sometimes see traces of a former manipulator in the clever charm he used to flirt, but it only came out in sudden, choppy moments, like he was horribly rusty with it, and even then, it was never malignant. His other indicators were just as clear. When he felt nervous or vulnerable, he had ticks that he used to cover his scars better, scars he despised. He had a habit of clenching his jaw and fists when he was feeling guilty or protective, the line between those two things blurring a bit for him. It wasn’t intentional, that had become clear when I suggested that he was atoning through treating me so well and he’d been upset by the words, but I was pretty sure that a part of him cared for me and was protective of me _because_ of what he’d done to Dan. And there was that wicked smile that told plenty about how much he relished breaking rules, but when it came to vengeance or protectiveness, he was dead serious and perfectly willing to draw blood. 

He wasn’t a liar and he wasn’t bluffing his way around me, at least not anymore. He was genuine in what he said and felt. So, when he said he loved me, he meant it. And he also meant it when he said I deserved to be loved and to be told I was loved, and he’d meant every other word he’d said to me that day and on Friday night. He cared for me, he respected me, and he had an instinctive need to protect me, even from himself. He wasn’t trying to trick me or force himself on me, which was better than most of the guys I’d been with, and he was going to great lengths to hold himself back and make sure he wasn’t influencing me or making me uncomfortable. And I could not ignore any of that. It was too valuable to me.

And when he’d left so abruptly? When I’d sat there stirring my tea thinking everything over and remembered him telling me that both he and Caleb could feel other Sons Using? I didn’t know what a fight between Chase and Caleb looked like, but in that moment I’d badly wanted to be there to shoot Caleb myself if he put one more scar on Chase.

Not normal feelings to have about the man who murdered your brother.

It was a fine line though, and a part of me agreed with Chase, who had told me that Dan’s death wasn’t murder, at least not according to him. He had not wanted to do it and it had not been in cold blood. He had killed Dan to protect himself from Caleb and he had done it knowing that if he didn’t, Caleb or one of the others probably would. If that part of it was true, then he’d done Dan a kindness by giving him a death that was instant and painless. It was far better than he might have gotten from someone else holding a bloody knife at the ready.

That shocked me. Dan had _stabbed him._ And he _still_ hadn’t attacked him, not until Dan called Caleb’s name. He’d ripped Dan’s knife out of his body and had been holding it bleeding, in pain, and emotionally distraught, and he hadn’t laid a hand on Dan. Instead he’d Used to put Dan into a permanent sleep.

He’d _Used_ to do it. He had only been in Ipswich because he’d known that Using was aging him and killing him, he had probably been terrified and obsessed with the situation, but rather than use the knife he was holding, he had _Used_ and shortened his own life in the process. Chase hadn’t told me exactly how long he expected to live, but he had suggested that he didn’t have ‘years.’ Using to end Dan’s life in a gentle manner had been no small matter.

If Chase was right and the Sons of Ipswich would have killed Dan, he had done my brother a kindness by killing him himself and thereby ensuring that it was done gently. And it _still _ate him up inside that he’d done it. I could see that clearly when he’d told me the story. He didn’t try to defend what he’d done or beg forgiveness. Instead, he’d gestured to my knife block and given me permission to kill him in retribution. He’d put his life in my hands moments after telling me that he’d killed Dan.

And I hadn’t even considered taking that opportunity. It hadn’t even crossed my mind.

So, I didn’t believe he had murdered Dan in cold blood. In fact, I believed he had been merciful. I did believe that he loved me and that he was a good man to be loved by, one who would respect me and care for me and protect me, one who I could have fun with without having to be afraid of negative results, one I could trust to be honest with me no matter what he had at stake, including his life.

I’d told him that morning that he was a man I could easily love, I just needed to know certain things. Now I knew them, and I also knew that I did love him.

Which left me remaining under Bucky’s warm weight and sipping the last of my tea in worry then, not in contemplation.

When Chase had appeared in The Hatter’s the next morning, outwardly unharmed, it had been a relief. To settle things once and for all in my head, I’d played him to see how he’d react to me being indecisive and he’d reminded me of exactly who he was and had been by saying he had a faulty moral compass. It had been the right answer, the kind of answer I could trust to be genuine and the kind I had expected based on my assessment of his character. That had decided it for me and had me dropping the act and telling him the truth, that my compass didn’t point north either.

I’d meant it when I told him I wouldn’t let him harm Liam, but his confession that he would kill him if I let him, spoken in that low, dark voice, made me love him more and made me _want _him more. I _wanted _his marks on me, all over me, in fact. I _wanted _his hands on me and other parts of him too, his mouth in particular. The things that man could do with his mouth were absolutely sinful. Mostly, I wanted to keep him around, so it was very comforting to have him remain in the tea room where I could keep an eye on him. 

He was a ball of nerves all day and seemed to fall into depression or anxiety with little prompting. It was terrifying to watch when I knew that as recently as yesterday, he’d been convinced he was going to die and had been acting like it was inevitable. From the sound of things, that had extended to some risky behavior goading the Sons of Ipswich last night. His life seemed to hold a strangely flexible value in his eyes, largely affected by how much guilt he was feeling in the given moment. I was not going to allow him to behave self-destructively, though, and I knew exactly how to make him value his life more and stick around longer. All I had to do was invest enough of myself to convince him that he could have a future with me, whatever that ended up looking like long-term. He craved so many things that I could so easily give him, things he deserved as much as anyone else. Love, compassion, belonging, purpose. All I had to do was trust him, which, strangely enough, I did, implicitly. Words would not be enough, I knew that. Chase had spent too much time with liars and people who saw him as a liar. Words could only hold so much weight with him. No, I’d have to show him.

The tea room was quiet the last hour of the day, as was usual for a Sunday, and it gave me a chance to start on some of my closing activities early. Chase watched me quietly, practically twitching with nervousness and, probably, with wanting to help in some way and being afraid to get in my way. I ignored him as best as I could in hopes that he could settle his mind on his own. When the final hour was up, I flicked off the lights and locked the front door. As always, I breathed a sigh of satisfaction at the sound of the lock turning. Another day done.

Chase got up then and made to meet me at the end of the counter, but I pointed him back towards the armchair. “Stay there,” I said. “You do wonders for the aesthetic in here.”

Chase snorted and shook his head at that, but did as he was told and returned to the armchair, continuing to watch me. I finished the few tasks remaining quickly, hung up my apron, then turned to him. Before he could react in any way, I crossed the tea room and lowered myself onto his lap, draping my arms over his shoulders. His eyes went wide in surprise and I pretended not to notice the way his body went stiff, then relaxed. “Hey,” I said as nonchalantly as I could. “You asked to stay…did you want something or just the company?”

His eyes were darting over me and his arms looped around my waist to trap me exactly where I was. “I wanted this, actually. And I wanted to make sure you were okay. We talked so briefly this morning.”

I held his gaze, watching his earnest expression relax a bit as I spoke. “I’m okay. Really. It was upsetting at first, of course, and just a lot to process, but I told you that there were things I needed to know. Now I know them.”

His brow creased and his expression became anxious once more. “And?”

“And I’m not going anywhere,” I said simply. “And neither are you if I have anything to say about it.”

Chase’s eyebrows shot up and he looked at me skeptically. “I want that so badly, but it’s so much more than I can possibly ask…”

“You’re not asking. I’m telling you that that’s how it is.” I leaned in and kissed him long and slow. He was hesitant at first, then the kiss became rougher and our lips parted in the same instant so we could taste each other. He tasted of London Fog, which was so him and such a lovely taste to begin with that it was utterly intoxicating. When he very softly bit my lower lip, a jolt went straight to my core and any nervousness about my plan evaporated. I broke the kiss and whispered to him, “If you don’t believe me, I could demonstrate my commitment.”

Chase stiffened again for a moment, then clutched me a little closer. “And how would you do that?”

I smiled and give him one last kiss before I took his left hand off my hip and brought his fingers to my lips. Watching his wide eyes the whole time as his pupils consumed them, I slid his index finger between my lips deep into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around his finger quickly but expertly and sucked hard as I pulled it out. “Holy fuck,” Chase groaned, his voice low and rough, just the way I wanted it.

When I slithered from Chase’s grasp and to my knees between his legs, he let me go as if all power had been drained from his body. He watched me like he was in a trance as I unbuttoned his darkwash jeans, eyes always on him, and reached into his boxers to take him in hand. He was already hard, probably from the treatment I’d given his finger and the fantasies his mind had conjured up as a result. I stroked him slowly in one hand and drew patterns on his thigh with the other hand. His hands found the arms of the chair to grip like a lifeline and I smiled, drunk on the power I had over him. It occurred to me just how easily he could overpower me if he wanted to, but he didn’t. He had never once made the first move without asking permission, it had always been my move or my word that prompted things. And now, here he was, utterly wrecked by me and all I’d done was kiss him suggestively and put one hand on him.

I bent my head and laid slow, teasing kisses on his head and then up and down his shaft. His breathing quickly grew ragged as he watched me and as his cock hardened and began to leak. I lapped up the pre-come with the tip of my tongue and he groaned, then I took his head slowly into my mouth. He hissed and every muscle in his body tensed, overtaken by pleasure and want. I moved slowly, taking only fractions of inches at a time and backing off over and over until he was shaking, his knuckles white. Only then, when I could feel how desperate he was, did I take him as deep as I could, to my throat and, with a swallow and a great deal of forced relaxation, deeper. Chase cried out and threw his head back, his hips stuttering. Though my throat began to seize and ache, I sucked hard to hold him there for a moment, then backed off to his head, sucking through every inch. Chase was gritting his teeth and cursing under his breath now and met my gaze again, his eyes and his parted lips utterly wrecked and desperate. I released him and kissed his tip, smirking at him. Then, eyes on him the entire time, I pried one of his hands off the armchair and laid my braid in it. Chase groaned and tugged lightly on the braid, then murmured, “That’s a lot of power, baby. You sure you trust me with that?”

“I’m sure,” I said, still smiling. Then, I took him in my mouth again and began to suck and bob up and down him, a little faster this time. At first, he only cradled my head, my braid clenched in his hand, but when I took him deep again and then held him there, he growled and tugged on my braid to pull me off, then press me down again, just a bit deeper this time. I followed his lead, taking charge of when I sucked and when I used my tongue while he set the pace and the depth. When he’d done his experimenting and I’d refused to back down or even lower my eyes, he became more demanding, pulling me up and down the length of him over and over, faster and faster. The pace became grueling and the depth punishing, bringing me to gag twice. He backed off immediately each time, though, never holding me down. He’d seen a bit of this side of me on Friday night, but I showed it to him again now, moaning in pleasure at forfeiting control to him and at watching the way what I was doing to him affected him. He was desperate and needy, putty in my hands. Moans and growls escaped his parted lips over and over, interspersed with increasingly foul words. “Fuck, baby,” he growled. “You’re so fucking good at that. You take cock like you were born for it. Jesus fucking Christ…fuck.”

The moans kept coming from both of us and I was soaking wet and so hot, just as desperate for him as he was for me. The sting of how hard he was now tugging on my braid went straight to my core. When I slipped one hand inside his boxers and clasped his balls, his hips stuttered and his eyes snapped shut. “Holy fuck,” he hissed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck….” He completely forgot that he was holding my braid and I took the opportunity to swallow him down as hard as I could, working my tongue around him as I did. Now, he tugged my braid hard and hissed, “Fuck, baby I’m going to come.” When I resisted his tugging, though, he opened his sexed-out eyes and found me holding his gaze as I sucked hard. He came instantly, his balls tightening in my hand, his cock jerking in my mouth as his hot seed filled me. I pulled off slowly as he came and had to swallow twice to take him all, instinctively panicking for half a second before I got it down. He sighed, then, and his head fell back against the chair. I pulled off entirely and gently kissed his tip, then, eyes on him, very deliberately licked my lips. Another groan left him and he tugged my braid, very softly this time, to beckon me up to him. I stood on shaky legs and straddled him on the chair, then kissed him thoroughly. If he minded his taste on my tongue, he didn’t show it, just kissed me slow and deep as if to thank me. His arms cradled me close, his hands splayed over my back. When the kiss broke, leaving us both panting, he whispered, “That was fucking incredible.”

“Somewhere in there, you said I’m good at that,” I said, smirking.

Chase groaned appreciatively. “You’re a fucking _vixen._ My heart is going to give out if you keep pulling tricks like that. Best head I’ve ever had, by far. Holy fuck.”

A blush broke out on my face and neck and I smiled at him, warmed by the praise. He eyed me then searchingly, pupils still blown wide. When he read my expression correctly, he smirked and slid one hand down my back to my waist and under my jeans inside my panties. My lips parted automatically in want and my still-hot core pulsed with need. Chase kissed my jaw, then the side of my neck. “You liked doing that to me,” he said, his voice low. “Those moans weren’t just for my benefit, they were real.”

“Every one,” I confirmed. Chase slid his hand down further, over my ass, one finger pressing just a little harder than the others to track between my cheeks. As his hand got lower, that finger brought a quiet whimper out of me that made Chase’s smirk widen. “That’s good to know,” he said softly. Then, his hand was between my legs, his fingers teasing at my lips and entrance. My head fell back and my eyes rolled under shut lids. Chase kissed down my throat and his mouth sucked a deep mark on my neck at the end of the trail. A possessive surge rippled through me and I smiled a bit at the thought of adding another mark to my collection, one from him. Then, he slipped one finger just barely inside me, drawing another whimper out of me. 

“You are so wet,” he groaned. “So hot from blowing me. That turns me on all over again.” He curled his finger inside of me and slid it in deeper, rubbing along my wall as he did and causing me to gasp. “God, I love that look on your face,” he said. “I want to see that every day for the rest of my life.” He sank a second finger inside me and my entire body seized for a second, then relaxed and became greedy, sinking down on him. Chase chuckled and twisted his fingers slowly, which made me cry out loud, and, when he felt that I was only getting wetter and greedier, he pushed a third finger in. Another cry escaped me and he kissed under my jaw, his lips lingering there after the pressure had gone. He began to pump his fingers in and out, at first slowly, then faster. Restricted by my jeans, which he did unbutton and unzip, he could only pull out so far and he made up for it with twists and curling individual fingers inside me to stretch me and drive me wild. Before long, my entire body was quivering and he gripped my ass with his free hand to lock me in place against him. He kissed my neck and jaw over and over again, refusing to let up. When I was moaning and whimpering in desperation, so close to the edge but needing more, he whispered in my ear, “You want more, don’t you? I want to give it to you. Tell me what you want.”

“I want another finger,” I whimpered between gasped breaths. “Please, Chase…fuck….”

A growl left him and went directly to my core, nearly pushing me over. “You are insatiable,” he murmured to me, “And it’s one of the reasons I love you.” His fourth finger joined the others, stretching me impossibly wider. My mouth fell open in a wide ‘O’ and that incredible stretch was almost enough, so fucking close. When he curled his fingers, that fullness and pressure sent me tumbling over, screaming his name and clutching his shoulders for support as I shattered apart. Stars burst across my vision and, when I could take no more of that burning bliss, I tapped once on his upper arm and he slowly pulled out, both hands clasping my ass now to hold me steady as I came down, gasping for air. Chase kissed along my jaw, up to my cheek, then down to my lips. Against my gasping lips, he whispered, “You are the sexiest woman on earth. You are so fucking beautiful when you let go like that. Fuck…I want to be inside you right now.”

“Take me,” I gasped. He gave me another gentle kiss, then carefully stood, carrying me with my legs wrapped tight around his waist. He knew the way and carried me out the back door of the tea room, chuckling as he watched my struggle to lock the door behind us without leaving his arms, then carried me up the wrought iron steps to my apartment. He surprised me by carrying me all the way to the bedroom and laying me in bed. I was very grateful, my legs now water from the treatment he’d given me. He smiled fondly as he stripped and watched me fight my clothes to do the same, his storm-blue eyes still dark with desire.

When he was naked, his cock half-hard already despite how hard he’d come not long ago, he crawled across the bed to kneel between my legs, looking every inch a predator. He bent to kiss my mound, drawing a whimper from me, then smirked and helped me escape my socks and bra, the only articles of clothing I had left. When I was as bare as him, he climbed up my body and kissed me on the mouth, slow and hungry. Still hot and stretched wide, I was desperate for him and my body kept bucking as we kissed, seeking his cock that kept brushing against my core. Finally, Chase chuckled and took pity on me, grinding against me again and again, his cock dragging between my folds. I dug my fingernails into his back and he hissed, but I didn’t let up. “Chase,” I whimpered. “Please. I need you inside me…now.”

He kissed my lips one last time, then leaned back enough to look me in the eyes as he buried himself in me to the hilt in one slow thrust. My body took him easily, but I sighed in relief at the warmth and hardness inside me, at the feeling of being joined with him and engaging in something far more important and more valuable than sex. Chase shuddered, the way his eyes smoldered giving me the impression that he was thinking something very similar. Then he kissed me again over and over as he pumped in and out of me, the speed increasing gradually as the kiss grew more heated. Soon, it wasn’t enough for either of us and I tapped on Chase’s hands with mine. He took the hint immediately and pinned me down by my wrists above my head. Just like when I’d given him my braid earlier, the forfeiture of control got me hotter and greedier. In a moment, I had my legs locked around his waist and was grinding up to meet him with every thrust, forcing him deeper inside me. A shudder ran through Chase and he shifted to pin both my wrists in one hand, then bring the other down to the small of my back, pulling my body up to meet him, rocking us together so our hips crashed and would probably bruise later. Rough groans escaped us both with each thrust and I pushed my body further to lock my ankles behind his shoulders instead of his waist, deepening my stretch. He sank in deeper now and I was crying out with each thrust, reveling in how completely he filled me, how thoroughly we were joined. Chase kissed my forehead, then murmured, “I can feel how close you are. Come on, baby. Come for me.”

Those words spoken by that low voice were exactly what my body needed and I came again, every bit as hard as I had downstairs. My orgasm catapulted Chase to his and moments after mine started, his did too. His was not as intense as his first, but the bar had been incredibly high, leaving plenty of room to still classify this one as abnormally strong. When we were both weak with satisfaction and overstimulation, Chase released my wrists, which ached pleasantly, and rolled to the side, wrapping me up in his arms to keep me close. When I could see straight again, I realized that Chase was smiling contentedly and his eyes were shut in blissful peace. Warmth flooded me at the sight and I was so damn glad I had started this. Chase echoed that sentiment, whispering, “That was not at all how I was expecting this afternoon to go. I am so fucking happy right now, beautiful.”

“Me too.” When he opened his eyes to look at me in mild surprise, I impulsively leaned over him and kissed his neck open-mouthed. He stilled and sighed, then hissed when I sucked hard enough to bruise and dug my teeth into his skin. I laid a gentle kiss on the love bite when I was satisfied, then pulled back to eye my handiwork with a smirk. “I think you’re going to have that one for days,” I said.

“I hope so,” he groaned. “In case it wasn’t obvious, you own me, Ember. And I’m quite happy to carry around proof on my skin that I’m yours.”

Something primal sang in my veins and I pushed him down on the bed and bent to lay bite after bite down his neck, across his collarbone, and down his chest. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he rolled us, putting him on top, and stroked the marks he’d left on me yesterday. He met my gaze, his eyes molten with the same possessive urge I felt. I tapped his hands with mine again and he grinned crookedly, pinning my hands down before he bent to leave more marks of his own on my neck and chest. Between each bruising kiss, he growled, “I agree that you should hide these in the tea room…it’s your place of business. But anywhere else? I want every man who looks at you to know you’re mine. I don’t want any of them to make the mistake of thinking they have a claim on you or a right to touch you or hit on you. You’re mine alone and they’re not going to like the consequences of testing that.”

Despite how forcefully those words turned me on, I chuckled at them and said, “They might get a tea kettle to the face.”

Chase snorted. “They might. If they actually lay a hand on you, they’ll get much worse.”

I had dated seven men before Chase and had plenty of male relatives, but not a single one of them had shown protective instincts over me. Certainly, they had never threatened to hurt someone who upset or hurt me. I watched Chase as he dug his teeth into a kiss over my left breast, this one especially painful for its placement, but no less alluring. I wove my fingers between his and squeezed, prompting him to meet my eyes. “Say we’re in a bar together and some idiot grabs my ass or tries to flip up my skirt.”

Chase’s eyes went dark just at the thought and in that moment I was reminded of just how dangerous Chase, who was like a puppy-dog with me, could really be. And I loved it. “That idiot would find himself with a black eye and, when the bartender kicked the three of us outside, that idiot would find himself with his hand so badly broken it never heals properly.” When he realized what he’d said, he shut his eyes tight and seemed ready to backpedal. Rather than let him, I wrapped my legs around his and curled my body just right to drag his cock through the wetness at my core. Chase looked to me in shock and I let him see the way my smile had widened at his words. “You like that,” he observed.

“I’ve never been protected before. It was enough to make me feel like I wasn’t worth the trouble sometimes. I was actually out with an ex once who saw an idiot feel me up and when I said something, my ex shrugged it off like it was no big deal.” Chase growled again. “That was years ago,” I said. “But yeah, I like feeling like I’m worth breaking someone’s hand over.”

Chase laid a soft kiss on my upper breast, then growled, “If someone ever laid a hand on your lovely _skin_, forget about breaking the hand. It would be _removed._”

Having this conversation began to send anxiety creeping under my skin. I’d thought about these things plenty of times before, like most women no doubt. I’d thought about it almost every time I’d gone out at night and certainly every time a man gave me _that look_ across a bar. Mostly importantly, I’d thought about it yesterday when Aaron had been standing in my tea room threatening me. To Chase, I whispered, “And if…”

When I choked on the words, Chase met my gaze. Whatever he found there caused his jaw to instantly harden like stone. “If I found out that some asshole _assaulted you_, he’d die screaming. _No one_ lays a hand on you without your say, including me. If you say ‘no,’ it is not negotiable. The penalty for violating that is death.”

I thought of the look in Aaron’s eyes yesterday. He’d had every intention of forcing himself on me while his friends held me down. Unstoppable, vile thoughts of what he would have done to me raced through my mind. Tears pricked my eyes and I shut them. Chase immediately released my hands and slid up my body to kiss my cheek and brush away a tear that escaped. “If you had been there _seconds_ later yesterday…” I gasped weakly.

“Shh…” he whispered. He laid his cheek against mine and spoke directly into my ear, “If I had been there too late, I would have known what was happening and I would have blown that door off to get to you. And then Aaron and his coward friends would be dead. A part of me wants him dead already just for scaring you this badly.”

“I don’t want you running from a murder charge,” I said. The words froze both of us and I could feel Chase staring at me in shock. When I got over my own shock, I determined that I did mean those words in every situation they applied to. I opened my eyes to meet his amazed gaze and said softly, “I mean it. We wouldn’t be here if I didn’t mean it.”

Chase nodded slowly, then said, “In that case, you should know that if I had killed Aaron, you would be the only one who ever knew. I can take care of myself. It’s you I worry about.”

I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him down tight over me, drinking in the warmth and softness of his skin pressed to mine. Buried under him like that, I felt just a tiny bit safer. He kissed my face very slowly over and over, soothing me and waiting. I realized that my hands were shaking on his back, perhaps had been shaking for a while now. “I’ve never been good at this,” I choked out.

“Good at what?”

“Being powerless.”

Chase thought for a moment, then whispered, “Let me show you something.”

I loosened my hold on him and he sat up, then pulled me upright with him, our legs tangling. He looked as nervous as I felt when he said softly, “You’re going to see my eyes change and it’s a little creepy, but I swear I would never hurt you.”

A different anxiety gripped me and I shook my head. “Chase, I don’t want you Using…”

“Shh,” he said softly, cutting me off. “It’s a very little spell. You’ll see.”

My body was tense with wariness, but I protested no more. After a moment, he held out one hand in front of him. I looked from the hand back to his face and watched as a ring of fire bloomed across his eyes, filling them with inky darkness. The sight sent a chill right to my bones, but then he offered his outstretched hand to me. I looked down and stared wide-eyed as a large black spider crawled from the back of his hand where I couldn’t see up onto his palm. My jaw dropped in amazement. The spider was massive, taking up most of his palm, and it was all black with elegant narrow legs ending in sharp-looking points. The spider darted about on his hand, but never left. I looked up to Chase again in amazement and found his eyes back to normal, but extremely nervous. “I used to create these all the time,” he said quietly. “They remind me of who I want to be and who I sometimes am. They make me feel in control, spinning my own web. I haven’t done one in years…I hurt someone with one of them and it put me off them. I thought you might like it, though.”

I stared in amazement into his eyes for a moment, then looked back down to the spider once more. It was watching me, as if as curious and wary about my reaction as Chase was. Finally, the words fell from my shocked lips, “It’s beautiful, Chase.”

Chase exhaled in relief and held the spider out closer to me. When I reached slowly out to it, I saw that my hands were no longer shaking. The spider skittered towards Chase’s fingers at my approach, but I made no move to touch it, instead pressing the side of my hand against the side of Chase’s. The spider eyed me curiously for a moment, then skittered forward to explore. Its touch sent shivers along my nerve endings, so light and graceful and dangerous. When the spider climbed up my wrist to my maze of tattoos and paused to study the spiders hidden in the vines, I laughed. Chase lowered his hand then and sat back to watch me. When I met his eyes, he was smiling fondly at me. “Thank you,” I whispered.

He blushed and looked to the spider once more and I followed his gaze. The spider was now tracking around my forearm and then up my arm towards my shoulder. “I used to collect spiders,” I said softly, thinking of all of them. “When I found interesting ones, I caught them, put them in a glass jar, and drew them in a notebook I kept just for that. I still have it somewhere, I think. When I was done, I’d let the spider go somewhere safe, back at its web if I could, and then I used the sketch to look up everything I could find on that one spider.” I looked to Chase again and calmly held his gaze while the spider crept along my collarbone. “I don’t know this one, but that’s probably because it doesn’t really exist, right?”

“That’s right,” Chase said softly, eyes locked on the spider, which was now on my upper chest. Each of its footsteps sent shivers along my skin, but they weren’t entirely unpleasant and I didn’t allow them to bother me. I had never been bothered by a spider on my skin. “It’s just a spell I created…it’ll disappear when I tell it to.”

“You said you hurt someone.” Chase’s face instantly tightened in regret and worry. I chased the spider slowly with my hand to guide it up to my shoulder, my eyes locked on Chase. “I assume it’s poisonous?”

Chase swallowed hard, still staring down that spider as he answered, his voice taut with tension and distress. “Not exactly. There are other spells I can add on to that one…they make it much less…friendly. I put someone in the hospital five years ago…I multiplied them and she had an allergic reaction from the bites when they swarmed her. I can also make it carry illness, but I lifted that spell before anyone got hurt.”

A deep frown creased my mouth and brow. A part of me was disturbed that he had done those things. Another, though, was disturbed by how deeply upset he clearly was by the memories. I collected the spider gently in one hand and held it up so Chase would meet my gaze. His eyes were pained and anxious. I stretched out my free hand to him and twined our fingers together between us. Then, I said soothingly to him, “You’re not going to hurt me. You created this to soothe me, not to scare me, and it worked.” I opened my hand within easy jumping distance of my face for a spider and watched Chase’s reaction. At first, it tightened in fear, but then, when he saw the spider refuse to leave my hand and when he saw me showing the spider no fear, he deflated, relaxing instantly. I smiled at him and lowered the spider to set it on top of our joined hands. We both watched it for a moment, then it crawled around Chase’s hand and disappeared. 

Chase leaned in and rested his forehead against mine, our noses brushing softly, and he whispered on my lips, “I love you.”

I kissed him long and slow and deep. When I could practically feel the electricity crackling between us, I whispered to him, “I love you, Chase.” He stilled and a low gasp escaped him. Before he could say anything, I started the kiss back up again, leaving him fumbling to catch up. When I slid my hand up his chest to his heart, I could feel it racing like mad and his lungs seemed to be working hard too. I gently shoved him onto his back and followed, climbing onto him and refusing to pause in kissing him. Between kisses, I murmured to him, “I know you’re worried about me…about me getting hurt…physically or emotionally. I know you’re afraid that _you_ will hurt me or make me regret this. But you just reminded me of why I inked spiders on my body in the first place.” I pulled back enough to look him in the eyes and watch his pupils dilate as I locked my hands around his wrists and pinned them beside his head. “I’m a spider, just like you, and I’m not afraid of you.”

A slow grin crept across his face. “You never have been,” he observed. “It didn’t matter what I looked like or said or did.”

“That’s right.” I released his left hand to stroke from his left temple to his jaw. His entire face went slack with bliss at the soft touch right along the scars he hated so much. “I’ll admit that you scare other people, but I find that very sexy if it makes any difference.”

Chase smiled again and pried his eyes open to look up at me. “Baby, that makes all the difference. Yours is the only opinion I care about.” The hand I’d freed found its way to my hip, pinning my core to his. That hard pressure right where I needed it sent heat to pool below my stomach. “You know, your…skills…were only part of what got me off before.”

“What was the other part?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Your trust.” He watched as my smile slowly widened in triumph and he chuckled. “And you know that already. That was your plan. You were proving you could trust me and getting me off at the same time.”

“Well, you weren’t the only one getting off,” I said with a crooked smile.

Just as I’d hoped, Chase chose that moment to roll us over, one hand pinning mine and the other lightly wrapping around my throat. Lust rippled through my lower body and I bent my legs up around him to press his length between my folds. Chase sighed at the contact, his eyes dark with desire. He stared into my eyes, watching every microexpression as he tightened his hand around my throat. My body twitched automatically under him, but I didn’t look away and the most significant outward reaction I had was the way my lower body bucked under him, desperately seeking friction. He stopped right at the point where he was just constricting my airway and adjusted his hold on me to stretch my neck and tilt my head back. With the tip of his tongue, he drew a narrow line from my throat to my chin, sending another shiver rippling through me. “I can’t say ‘no’ to you, baby. I don’t think I’m capable. But if you’re not comfortable, I want to you tell me or show me so I stop. I believe that you trust me, but that doesn’t mean I can read your mind. Deal?” He released my throat then and I took in a ragged breath, filled with raging lust and with gratitude for this generous, thoughtful man. How could I not trust him when he said things like that? So far, there was nothing Chase and I had done that I hadn’t done before, and with every act he’d showed me far more consideration than the ones who came before him ever had. As for a safeword, it hadn’t mattered how rough my exes got, they’d never thought safewords to be worthwhile. I took Chase’s hand in mine and brought it to my mouth to lightly bite his thumb. Chase hissed and I smiled. “The word is ‘marzipan.’”

“‘Marzipan?’” he said with a raised eyebrow and a surprised grin. “I can remember that.”

“And this,” I thought up a short pattern and tapped it on the back of his hand with my fingertips. “This is for if my mouth or throat are…otherwise occupied.”

Chase smirked at that, eyebrow still raised. “Deal. Anything else I should know?”

I sucked hard on his index finger, just as I had earlier, and his lips parted and hips stuttered. When I released his finger, I gave him a look like a dare and said, “Last thing. I don’t think there’s anything you can do to make me use them.”

Chase grinned like a cat who’d just been offered a mouse to play with. “We’ll see about that.”


	15. A Little Trick

Chase was pretty sure he was at risk of a heart attack if they kept this up.

He and Ember spent Sunday afternoon into the evening in her bed, only emerging around nine o’clock to make a frozen pizza and spend the time it took to bake fucking on the kitchen counter. He could tell she’d intended it to play out that way. Ember never did anything unintentionally and when they’d gone to make the pizza, she’d dressed in his shirt and nothing else, not even panties. So, because he could take a hint and hated missed opportunities, he’d bent her over the counter and railed her until she screamed. He was moments shy of coming when the timer went off and Ember smirked and pushed him off her. “Fuck,” he groaned, backing up to lean against the fridge, his cock aching in his hands. He couldn’t bear to watch Ember bend at the waist to take out the pizza, waiting with his eyes screwed shut instead. He heard the beep signaling that she’d shut the oven off, then she came close enough to breathe in his ear, “You know, I’ve never had sex on this floor.” Which was how he’d ended up flat on her kitchen floor while she screwed him to within an inch of his life and, shortly thereafter, eating cold pizza on the same kitchen floor while barely able to see straight.

“I think you’re going to kill me,” he observed mildly. When Ember looked at him, eyebrow raised, he shrugged. “In all seriousness, if I’m going to go, this is definitely how I want to go.”

“Stop talking about dying,” she said just as mildly, though he knew she was dead serious. She crawled over to him and slid into his lap. Her dark brown eyes were so close to his, her lips red and swollen from the abuse they’d taken today, and he was so far gone on her. She owned him completely. She could probably cut his balls off and keep them in a jar in her fridge and he’d let her. He kissed her soft and slow, the way he never would have before everything changed but craved now. It felt like a conversation and it got his heart racing even before adding tongue to it. And through this kiss, she was telling him that he wasn’t allowed to die because she didn’t want to lose him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered to her when he could stand to break the kiss. “Not without a hell of a fight.”

“Good,” she said, twining the fingers of her right hand into his left and squeezing. He squeezed back just as hard, not missing the way her thumb stroked his scars. “If you’re as much of a badass as you think you are, I expect you to be around for a very long time.”

He laughed at that and brought their entwined hands up to kiss her knuckles. When he opened his eyes, she was smiling softly at him. Fondness, fierceness, and worry all danced in her eyes. He kissed each knuckle individually, concerned anew about her being so attached to him when he really was in a very precarious position. If he was killed, she couldn’t even report him dead because legally he had been dead for five years already. He even had a headstone in Ipswich’s public cemetery. But he couldn’t tell her how real the danger was, not when she had enough to worry about and he wanted to keep her far away from the other Sons, not running headlong into trouble like he was beginning to worry she would. He laid her hand on his shoulder to free his own and held it up for a moment so she’d understand his intent. She stiffened, but didn’t move, just watched as his eyes burned to black and the Power rippled along his arm like morphine. He snapped his fingers and a tiny flame lit in the air just above then, nothing compared to the fireballs he’d threatened Caleb with last night, but that wasn’t the point. Ember studied the flame, reaching out towards it close enough to feel the heat. To her, he whispered, “I don’t want you to worry about me. This flame and that spider I gave you are nothing compared to what I can do when I have a reason. Last night, it took everything in me to resist throwing fireballs at Caleb and I did end up levitating Pogue’s bike and dropping it on Caleb’s car instead. Parlor tricks like this feel good to do and they’re a fix when I need to Use, but they’re nothing compared to what I’m really capable of.”

Ember curled her fingers around his and blew out the flame. Then, she looked to Chase, eyes molten, and said, “I don’t want you Using if you can help it, but that is ridiculously sexy.”

Liquid heat trickled down his spine and a confidence only she could make him feel anymore had him grinning crookedly and purring to her, “If you think that’s sexy, you’re not gonna believe the things I can do to you.”

That slow sneaky smile he loved crept across Ember’s face and she pursed her lips. After some deliberation, she said, “One trick, a little one. I really don’t like you Using, but when you dangle something like that…”

He laughed and held her gaze as he started the spell, loving how she didn’t shy away from his eyes changing, which he knew could be very unsettling to watch. It was like she was accepting that part of him without caring whether it was ugly, kind of like his scars. He focused on the spell and on watching her face, imagining his hand gliding between her legs, his fingers teasing between her folds. Ember’s lips parted and her eyes widened, showing him that she felt it and knew what he was doing. He couldn’t help a wicked smirk, too damn proud of himself to back down now. He drove two nonexistent fingers inside her and her hands found his shoulders, fingers digging in for support. “Chase,” she gasped. “Oh my god…”

“Tell me, baby,” he said to her as he slowly twisted inside her. He had both real hands in the air so she could see them doing absolutely nothing. “Is the best part the way it feels, the fact that you can’t do anything about it, or that I don’t even have to touch you to do it?”

He added a third imaginary finger before she could answer and her body bucked in his lap but, as he’d said, she couldn’t back off of him or push down on him when he wasn’t actually there. Her grip tightened on his shoulders and she dragged herself up to straddle him. He wrapped both arms around her to support her, then, still looking her in the eye, he added a fourth digit. Her back arched and her head fell back as she gasped. All of her muscles had gone stiff and she was beginning to quiver in his arms now. She would have been in a puddle on the floor without his arms around her. “You haven’t seen the best part yet, baby,” he said. Her lips parted to silently utter his name, then he let the Power hum in his phantom fingers and slowly twisted them inside her, letting her feel the vibrations, the heat, the power. Quiet little cries were escaping her as he did it and he watched as her face changed in an instant. Her eyes were screwed shut and her lovely face was contorted in something between pain and pleasure, held there on the very brink. He had her feeling that, he had her trapped on that brink, he had the power to make her tumble forwards with a mere thought.

“Do you want to come, baby?” he whispered, leaning in to press kisses along her cheek and jaw. She whimpered and held out stubbornly for a moment, but when his phantom knuckles hit her G-spot again, she cried out once, then began to gasp, “Yes! Oh god, yes. Please. Please.”

“Please what, baby?”

“Make me come. Please make me come.”

He grinned, feeling like a damned god, and let one last pulse of Power leap through the spell in the form of a mild spark. Ember came instantly, screaming his name, her nails drawing blood on shoulders she’d already scratched to hell, not that he cared. She could carve her name in his back with a kitchen knife and he’d love it. He dropped one hand from her back to her core, slipping a fingertip inside her just to feel her come. It was fucking heaven and had him rock-hard and hungry with lust, as if watching her face and hearing her scream hadn’t been enough. She was still gasping and he could still feel her walls fluttering when he couldn’t take it anymore. He beckoned her forward with that fingertip inside her and she whimpered and obeyed, shifting up onto her knees against him. “That’s it, baby. I knew you’d like that. Watching you come apart like that has me so fucking hot. I need to be inside you, baby.”

“I can barely hold myself up,” Ember mumbled, chuckling under her breath. 

It was enough to make Chase laugh quietly too. “I’ll take care of you, baby.” He bent his knees up behind her, giving her something to lean against, then lined her up and slowly lowered her onto his cock. It was fucking heaven. She was so damn wet and still having aftershocks from her orgasm. When he was fully seated in her, his eyes slammed shut and his head fell back against the cupboard, bowled over by how good she felt. Ember pressed lazy kisses to his temple, cheek, jaw, lips. “Sorry, baby,” she murmured. “This is about as much as I can manage after that. Holy fuck.”

Chase laughed and opened his eyes to see her sexed-out eyes and her crooked smile. With his hands on her hips, he lifted her up, then brought her back down on him, reveling in the feel of her sliding around him, though it wasn’t as great as just being buried this deep in her. He chuckled to himself and, holding her right where she was, he said to her, “Actually, it just feels good to be inside you. You’re so hot and wet right now…fuck.”

A thoughtful, dangerous look crossed Ember’s face and she slowly leaned back against his thighs, teasing eyes on him. The angle change had him pressed against her front wall and groaning with pleasure. Because he knew she had him lined up perfectly to hit both her G-spot and her clit now, he lifted her up and brought her back down again, sending a ripple of desperate pleasure right through his nervous system. Ember cried out, her head thrown back again. It felt right on the edge of too good and he couldn’t help but keep going, needing more pleasure, more pain. Ember dug her nails deep into his sides and her face contorted with that pleasure/pain again as he increased the pace. “You okay, baby?” She nodded, her jaw apparently locked with the overstimulation. Chase buried himself deep inside her again and held her down, and, when he could bear it no more, he slid one hand across her hip to bring his thumb down between them. Ember immediately screamed and drew blood on his ribs as she came and he followed her within seconds, overcome by that extra pressure and by her muscles clenching around him so damn hard. 

When they were both worn out and gasping for air afterward, Ember uncurled her hands and looked to them in confusion. When she saw the blood, her eyes leapt to his. “God, Chase, you didn’t have to let me do that. I’m so sorry.”

Chase snorted, too busy grinning like the sexed-out idiot he was to care. “Baby, I’d let you carve your name on my skin with a knife if you wanted to. Don’t worry about it.”

She shot a half-hearted glare at him. “Don’t say things you don’t mean. You might get exactly what you ask for.”

He was actually laughing now, high on endorphins and…what was it? Was this what happiness was supposed to feel like? “I told you, I don’t lie to you. I’d really prefer not to have you carve me up, but I’d let you. Regardless, fingernails are nothing.”

Her smile warmed and she said, “I’m not going to ‘carve you up.’” She tried to reach for him and her arms fell limp beside her. Chase’s laughter started anew and Ember raised an eyebrow at him. “You broke me. How are we going to get to the bedroom?” He shrugged and shook his head, mouthing his response through the laughter, _I don’t know._

They did eventually make it to the bedroom after much laughter and consumption of water. There, Ember dragged herself through an evening routine while Chase found his cellphone and checked it, dreading what he might find there. Sure enough, there were enough messages there, all from one particular sender, to raised an eyebrow at. Ember saw his expression and snorted. “Caleb?” Chase nodded and opened the conversation thread to read the messages in order.

_Caleb: You want to help Kate?_

_ Caleb: Pogue is going to kill you just for thinking about her enough to come up with that._

_ Caleb: Look, last night we all took things too far and I’m sorry for my part in that. I know you’re Using again and I’m not going to bother you about it unless it’s something big. If you could live without Using, you would have figured out how in the last five years._

_ Caleb: I’m still going to give you access to the sanctum. I’ll text you the address. Tomorrow morning?_

Chase snorted, noting that Caleb had refused to acknowledge the fact that Chase was completely capable of harming him and had done so via his car. Instead, he was pretending like he was still in control of the situation. Maybe Chase had accidentally played into that by offering to help Kate. Maybe he’d made himself look vulnerable or weak by caring. Regardless, if Caleb wanted to ignore threats, that was fine with Chase. That would get him more leeway to Use and spend time with Ember. “Apparently, I’m going to get those documents after all,” Chase said out loud.

“Really?” Ember hurried over to him as he texted Caleb back.

“Yeah. Tomorrow morning he’s going to send me the address. He calls it a sanctum…I’m hoping for a cave with a stone altar and levitating candles that never burn out.”

Ember scoffed and leaned in to kiss him hard enough that he nearly dropped his phone. “It’s not a sanctum without a sacrificial dagger too. I’m glad he’s giving you access…Chase, please don’t piss him off.” His pulse jumped and he was ready to pull away at that, but Ember tightened her grip. “Listen to me. I don’t want to watch you age ten years in one. I think you’re right that there must be something you can do and I need you to figure it out. You can’t do that without Caleb’s stupid sanctum. So please, behave?”

Chase sighed wearily, but made the mistake of looking her in the eye and instantly crumbled. “‘Behave’ is a pretty tall order for me, but I’ll try not to piss him off.”

“Thank you.” A slow smirk lit her eyes and lips and she added, “If you can behave, I’ll show you how much it means to me tomorrow night. Deal?”

He groaned, partly in defeat and partly in lust. “How the hell am I supposed to say ‘no’ to that?”

“You’re not.”

His phone buzzed in his hand and he rolled his eyes at it, then gave Ember a quick kiss. She was still smirking as she headed towards the bathroom to brush her teeth and whatever else. Chase opened the text. _Caleb: You’re with her, aren’t you? You’ve been radio silent all day._

_Chase: Maybe I just don’t like talking to you._

_ Caleb: Just tell me she’s safe._

Chase was trying to decide whether to reply with something nasty or just smash the phone when Ember snuck up on him and read the last few messages over his shoulder. She snorted and startled him, though she pretended not to notice. “He’s asking for proof of life? Seriously? How does he even know about us?”

“I imagine that’s Aaron’s doing,” Chase grumbled. “That’s why I saw Caleb last night, he figured out I was with you. And Pogue showed up as backup. They think I’m manipulating you into sleeping with me.”

Ember raised an eyebrow at him and then, when she saw that he was being serious, she began to laugh. After half a minute of it, Chase gave a long-suffering sigh, pretending that it didn’t turn his insides molten seeing her laugh so hard. “Yes, you read minds, I got it. I tried to tell them that, but it’s like you said, most guys just see the hair and the tattoos. It’s like your ninja uniform that you use to blend in to the shadows, except you’re blending in by standing out.” Ember was laughing so hard now that tears were gathering around her eyes and Chase couldn’t help grinning and rolling his own eyes. “Okay, okay. So, I was planning to just smash my phone, but I’m thinking you have a better solution to this.”

Ember forced herself to silence her laughter and gestured at him to meet her on the bed. Chase raised an eyebrow, but obeyed, following her until they were reclined side-by-side against the headboard. By the time they made it there, Ember had contained her laughter in her eyes. “He’s asking for proof of life and he needs to be convinced that I’m not chained to your bed. The most obvious solution is a picture.”

Chase blinked, sure he’d misheard her. “Excuse me?” Ember took his phone, opened the camera app, and flipped it so they could see themselves in the screen. Chase was shirtless and the cami Ember was apparently sleeping in was held up by spaghetti straps, making them look practically naked in the camera. “You sure this is a good idea?” Chase asked warily. Ember rolled her eyes and he watched her do it in the camera. Then, she was suddenly kissing him, hard, fast, and with plenty of tongue, leaving him panting and hungry for her. Then, against his mouth, she murmured, “If the rumors are true, Caleb’s been with only three girls ever and he and Sarah haven’t slept together in months. He doesn’t think you can charm a girl into bed because he doesn’t know how to. So, we show him that you and I both know exactly what we’re doing and we’re happy. Got it?”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

Ember laughed and kissed him one more time, then adjusted her grip on the phone, flicked her hair over her shoulder, and met Chase’s eyes with a smirk. “Put your arm around me, hand on my arm.” He did. The shift brought them closer together and his fingers just barely showing in the camera. Ember’s eyes sparkled. “Now touch me with your other hand.”

Chase raised an eyebrow at her. “He’s not going to be able to see that. I hope.”

Ember shrugged. “No, but he’ll see the shit-eating grin on your face that tells him where your hand is.” He couldn’t help grinning and, judging by the look on her face, it was the exact shit-eating grin she was looking for. He slipped his hand inside her panties and watched her lips part when his middle finger just barely breached her. “Yes, that face. You tease…”

Chase laughed. “This was your plan.”

“I know, I know. So, you’re going to look into the camera, shit-eating grin and all, with your gorgeous blue eyes, no black in them. And I’m going to kiss your cheek while also looking into the camera and trying not to laugh my ass off. Deal?”

Chase pressed his finger in one knuckle deeper and her body tightened and twitched in his arms. “Deal. Quickly.”

“Yes.” She kissed him again, then they both looked into the camera. Sinking his finger the rest of the way inside her solidified what she’d called his shit-eating grin, as well as his willingness to do this in the first place. Ember curled her free hand under his jaw to hold him still as she kissed his cheek, his _left_ cheek. In the camera it was easy to see that her lips were curled upwards in a smile, and her eyes were perfectly clear and full of humor and lust and love. There was a quiet clicking sound and Ember tapped at the screen to see the photo. It was a very good picture. Ember softened in his arms looking at it and kissed his cheek again, then sent the photo to a number not in his phone before handing it back to him. “There. Mission accomplished. And now we’ve traded numbers.”

Chase chuckled and crooked his finger inside her, turning her instantly into a puddle in his lap. “Hang on, baby,” he murmured to her. “Let me send this. And for the record, I’ve been wanting to trade numbers with you for days, there was just never a moment that made sense.” He tapped out a text to Caleb, _Here’s your proof of life. Now kindly fuck off._ He added the photo Ember had just taken to the text and sent it, then chucked his phone towards his stuff. “Now, why are you wearing clothes?”


	16. The Sanctum

When Chase parked the Jaguar in front of the old house at the end of the road, Caleb was waiting for him, pacing in front of what must be his replacement car, another Mustang in blue this time. When Chase got out and started towards him, he turned to stone and stared. It was enough to both make Chase’s skin crawl and make him strut a bit at the same time. “You…cut your hair,” Caleb choked out.

Technically, Ember had, straddling him while he sat on a stool in her bathroom and muttering threats at him for touching her and distracting her. Her hands never faltered despite his teasing, leaving him with a style that was very similar to how he’d looked when Caleb met him. Chase raised an eyebrow at Caleb. “That’s sweet of you to notice. I think it suits my face better.”

Caleb cringed, clearly struggling to decide whether it was worse to stare at the scars or not look at them at all. He settled on turning away and started walking through the tall grass onto the property. “I think you did it just to make me uncomfortable.”

“That’s rather self-centered of you,” Chase said, following him. “There are plenty of people I enjoy seeing uncomfortable.”

“Like Aaron Abbott? I saw him yesterday…that burn is going to scar and he has a shitty new haircut that I assume you’re responsible for.”

Chase grinned gleefully. “Perfect. That’s exactly what I was hoping for.”

Caleb sighed. “He was after Ember on Saturday, right? You told me you threw a tea kettle at him, it must’ve been in her shop?”

That utterly soured his mood. “Yes,” he said through gritted teeth. “He and two goons he brought along to hold her down.”

“Well, I added a black eye to what you did to him. What good is it having witches guarding a town if assholes like him can assault women and think they’ll get away with it?”

Chase looked to Caleb in surprise, but they were approaching a shed and Caleb’s face was unreadable. Caleb and Aaron had hated each other when Chase had known them five years ago and they didn’t seem to have changed much since then in other ways. Maybe it made sense that they still hated each other. And Caleb did have a thing for protecting people, as Chase knew rather intimately.

Caleb unlocked the door of the shed with a tiny key on a ring. “The lock is to discourage thieves and keep out innocents. You could break it or Use to get past it if you were feeling like an asshole, but the sanctum is Bound, which means that you won’t be able to remove anything from it, even by Using. Everything in the sanctum has been there for three hundred years and there are three hundred years of magic protecting it.” 

Caleb entered the dark shed and started down a stone stairwell that disappeared into the earth. Chase shut the door and followed, pulse hammering as the Power curled around him like smoke hanging in the air. “I can feel it,” he said in awe. A few steps later, candles began flickering to life where the steps met the walls, guiding their way. _Well, they’re not levitating, but that’s still cool._ The air became colder, but not damp, and they descended into a room that, upon their arrival, flickered alive with hundreds of candles, some levitating. A perfectly round stone altar stood in the center of the room with a pentagram carved in the floor around it, each point stretching outward to a stone chair. Shelves lined the walls full of books, scrolls, loose papers, jars, and strange devices Chase couldn’t name. There was a dagger a few shelves away that looked vaguely sacrificial in nature. Caleb sat in one of the chairs and Chase looked around the room, confirming that there were five chairs, not four. “One of these belonged to Putnam,” he said quietly.

“And it hasn’t been sat in by anyone since,” Caleb confirmed.

That was enough to make Chase raise an eyebrow. “You guys are all about ceremony, aren’t you? No one ever sat in his chair by accident or to sit closer while you were having a conversation or anything?”

Caleb gave him a dead serious look and pointed to the chair in question. Chase twitched in shock. It was the one closest to him, not even arm’s length away. Even more startling, it was caked in dust. Not just normal dust that you would see on top of a bookcase where no one would think to clean until the owner decided to redecorate. This was _old_ dust, certainly decades old, believably generations old, possibly the three hundred years old Caleb was suggesting. Chase’s heart was hammering in his chest and he couldn’t seem to breathe normally. He looked to Caleb, who was watching him closely, cataloguing his reaction. Confusion and then anger suddenly flooded Chase and he pointed at the chair. “You and your Covenant have been staring at this empty chair since they banished John Putnam and you never tried to find my family? You left me and everyone before me alone with this. You wonder why I hate you, but it’s because of you that I was adopted by assholes and had to figure out the Power completely alone.”

Caleb frowned deeply. “Chase, the Covenant never knew you existed. I don’t know what your father told you, but as far as the Covenant knew, John Putnam was the last of his line. We only put together who you were when I found your birth name in your admissions file. During his trial, John Putnam was accused by Agnes Goodwin-Pope of appearing to her as an incubus. After he’d been killed, and too long after her husband had died for it to have been his, Agnes had a baby, who must’ve been Putnam’s only son.”

Chase stared as his world careened sideways. His father had told him that the Covenant banished Putnam and forced their family into exile, that it was the Covenant’s fault that theirs was a family of men dead long before their time, that the Covenant had maintained a safe haven for their four boys, not for him, to grow up together where they could learn how to Use together and have the support and knowledge they needed to become great and powerful and to live so much longer. Chase staggered and caught himself on something. When he realized it was the back of Putnam’s chair, a shudder ran through him and he landed on his knees on the stone floor, hand still gripping the chair as he struggled to breathe. “Chase,” Caleb said quietly, “I don’t know which of us is right, maybe neither of us, but the lot you were dealt…it didn’t have to be that way and it’s wrong. Maybe the Covenant banished Putnam or maybe he took the fall so they could escape the witch trials. Maybe they were glad to see him go, maybe not. They should have listened to Agnes and when they missed it, later generations should have noticed the discrepancy in the record that we found. The Covenant failed your family and you and I’m sorry for that.”

Chase nodded when the room stopped spinning. “Okay. I’m sensing a ‘but.’”

“No ‘but.’” Chase looked to Caleb in shock and Caleb shrugged, eyes far away. “Guys in our lines have used their bodies up just as fast as you and they had warning, you know. My dad was forty-four, but he could have been ninety from the way he looked at the end. That night five years ago, you told me you didn’t think I was cut out for it. Some guys aren’t. Reid’s not and that scares me.” He snorted in a self-deprecating way. “Sometimes I think you’re right and I’m not.”

Chase rolled his eyes at that. “I was lying, obviously. Power suits those who don’t want it, it’s the ones who do that get eaten up along the way, and we all know that you don’t want it at all.”

Caleb shrugged. “There are things I do want from the Power, but it would take a lot of Using for me to work them out.”

“Like what?”

A flush broke out on Caleb’s cheeks, making him look suddenly very young. “Healing, mostly. I’ve grown up watching my dad and now my mom get sicker and sicker. Peacefulness too. I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep since I was twelve.”

Chase raised an eyebrow at that. “I don’t know about sleep, but I can heal. Why can’t you?”

Caleb stared at him in open-mouthed shock. “You can heal? None of us can and our fathers couldn’t either.”

Chase gestured at the books around them in incredulity. “Then why the hell haven’t you read these? If you have gaps in your education it’s because you neglected it, not because there’s nothing there to learn.” He rolled his eyes and got to his feet. “Did you bust up your knuckles hitting Aaron?” Caleb showed him the back of his right hand, which did host some split and bruised knuckles. “Nice. I bet he was crying on the floor and I really wish I could’ve seen it. Now, pay attention.” He felt Caleb’s Power descend his shoulder like a raven, watching as he sent his Power into Caleb’s knuckles, knitting across them to heal the open wounds and soothe the bruising. They were such minor injuries that it took scarcely more than a second and he hardly even felt it, but when he met Caleb’s eyes he found there a look of complete awe. 

For a moment, they just stared at each other. When Chase recognized that Caleb’s eyes were darting periodically to his scars, though, his mood blackened again and he said, “Go ahead, ask.”

“Why didn’t you heal yourself? I felt how little effort what you just did took. You could have healed those scars completely if you…”

“If I’d done it right away while they were still open wounds?” Chase finished. “Maybe. It would have drained my Power, though, and then _you_ would have found me and finished me off.” Caleb flinched, but didn’t look away. “I did Use to keep the infection out when I couldn’t deal with changing the bandages anymore, it was too damn…I don’t know…triggering. By then I knew that I had failed at prolonging my life, though. I wasn’t going to get more Power from you through brute force or manipulation and it was like you said that it wouldn’t have helped me anyway. Healing the scars or creating a glamour over them were both things I thought about again and again, but they would have been a huge drain on my Power and cut years off my life, many years probably.”

“Chase,” Caleb said hoarsely. “If I had found you like…” he gestured weakly at Chase’s face and hand. “Killing you would not have been my first instinct. You were gone when the emergency crews got there. Did you teleport out?”

He snorted. “I wish. I was afraid you would feel that.”

“I probably would have. What did you do?”

“I walked.”

Caleb stared at him in what he realized after a long time was horror. “You _walked_? Where? Not to Gloucester?”

“Where the fuck else?” Chase grumbled. “I couldn’t heal myself or teleport or steal your car. I felt like Frodo avoiding the Great fucking Eye for fuck’s sake. I had to do _something_…my skin was melting off a little too fast to ignore.”

Caleb shuddered visibly, which Chase found very satisfying. Then, Caleb said weakly, “Chase, I swear, if I had found you like that, I wouldn’t have hurt you.”

Chase raised an eyebrow. “Minutes after I tried to kill you and Sarah? With Pogue and Kate still in the hospital? You can believe whatever makes you feel better, Caleb, but you would’ve killed me and I would’ve deserved it. Now, tell me what you’ve already gone through so I know what to read last.”

Caleb seemed to consider pushing the issue, but he let it go and held out his hand. A thick tome pulled itself partway from one of the shelves to distinguish itself. “None of them can be touched by human hands. They’ll turn to dust and reappear on the shelf. You have to Use to get them to the altar and flip the pages. This is the Book of Damnation. Everyone reads it when they’re young because all of the basic stuff you have to know is in it. There’s a lot of historical stuff about the trials in there, which the Covenant calls The Damnation, so if you want to know about Putnam that’s your starting point.” The Book of Damnation slid back into its home and four books on the same shelf slid out instead. “These are spellbooks that most of us have been through. Reid eventually started doing more experimenting than reading and gave up on them. So did the rest of us after a while.”

Chase rolled his eyes and gave Caleb a withering look. “So, of all of these books, you idiots covered _five._ Seriously? You put more effort into your senior English classes. And you wonder why you can’t heal.”

“How did you learn to heal?”

Chase gritted his teeth and considered not saying anything or just giving him a biting comment, but Caleb was being very forthright and understanding today and Ember had been right when she said he needed to make nice with Caleb to keep access to the sanctum. “Let’s just say I acquired a lot of injuries growing up that I didn’t want to go to the hospital for.”

Caleb stiffened like a board. “Your…adoptive parents?”

“There were plenty of asshole kids at school too, but it was mostly dear old Dad, yeah. And myself. Before I taught myself how to pick locks by Using, I beat the hell out of a few doors with my fists and fingernails. When I was fourteen, I spent a week teaching myself how to grow back a missing fingernail. That was a joy.” As he spoke, Chase found his heartrate tripping over itself again and he growled the last words in frustration.

Caleb was staring at him in horror and disgust. “They _locked you up_?”

“Plenty of times. It wasn’t hard to convince them I was really doing magic, but they decided immediately that it was not as cool as I thought it was.” Chase dealt Caleb a bitter smile. “Did you think I killed them just because I was an asshole? Or just for the money? I didn’t give two shits about the money, although it did make my life a lot easier afterward. I Ascended and it scared the shit out of me, but I could feel afterward that I had so much more Power, that I could do anything. I knew I didn’t want to hide it from them anymore like I had learned that I had to and now that I had the power to control my own life, I needed that. They had my college picked out for me, an internship in his company, they even picked out the girl I was dating. And yeah, every time I stepped out of line, I got hit with something and I was lucky if it was a fist and not something more damaging.” Caleb buried his face in his hands and Chase felt a wave of disgust. “For fuck’s sake, how did you think I got the way I was?”

Caleb shook his head but didn’t raise it. “You told me that killing comes naturally to you and you had been lying to us nonstop since we met you. I thought you were a psychopath.”

“Killing does come naturally to me, but I think it would to you too if you’d been dealt the hand I was. You have no idea how hard it’s been not to hunt down that fuckhead Aaron and all the other jackasses that have hurt her and kill them,” he growled, pacing away from Caleb because he couldn’t stand to look at him anymore. He was such a self-righteous asshat and if Chase didn’t need the sanctum, he’d be so done with this shit.

“Who else hurt her?”

Chase snorted. “You, lying to her for five years. It’s not my place to tell you about the others, but I will say that she thinks I’m the best guy she’s ever been with and that’s pretty sad.”

“I set her up with some of those guys,” Caleb said in a choked voice.

It took everything in him not to turn and throw a fucking fireball at him. Instead, he ground his teeth, tried to see the books on the shelf in front of him, and growled the words, “And here I am wanting to kill you again. The worst was long before you knew her, but yes, all of them were complete assholes compared to me and we both know that I am an asshole.”

“You can be charming when you want to be,” Caleb said wearily.

Chase rolled his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, I’m not cursing her or lying to her or whatever it is you think I’m doing. I don’t do that anymore and I would never do that to her.”

“Are you in love with her?”

The incredulous tone in his voice was enough to make Chase turn on him again. “I guess it’s hard for you to fathom because you think I’m a _psychopath_, but I am actually capable of emotions, including caring about people.”

“I know you’re capable of _emotions_…”

“Besides anger and jealousy, asshole,” he snapped. “Now, as fun as this little chat has been, I’m going to do what I came here to do and try to figure out how to not die.”

“Fine,” Caleb said quietly.

Chase started at the first bookcase to the right of the stairs with a plan to go through everything book-by-book in order so he wouldn’t miss any possibilities. It would take much longer than Using to seek out potential best starting points, but even if one of the ancient tomes didn’t contain what he was looking for, he didn’t want to miss any opportunities to learn more about the Power and how to use it and control it. He’d never had the opportunity to actually study it before and he wasn’t going to squander this chance like the other Sons of Ipswich had. He ended up sitting on the stone floor near the altar reading the levitating book through the flames that illuminated it. He was quite sure that he wasn’t welcome in Putnam’s chair or any of the others and he didn’t particularly want to be. He was far too bitter for that.

He lost himself in the first book, a spellbook focused mainly on elemental spells. He already knew a few things in it and he had ideas for improving a few more things that it tried to teach him, but most of the information it imparted was a revelation and it made him eager to Use and try everything out. Most importantly, the book described the process for drawing energy from the elements themselves rather than the Power and Chase really liked the sound of that. In fact, maybe he’d unintentionally drawn energy from the fire in the barn and that had been what kept him alive on the walk to the hospital. He wasn’t sure if Using through elemental energy would still cause the aging or not, but it was well worth studying further to find out. It would make the Power no less addictive, but it could be a way to Use more without aging so quickly.

After what felt like minutes but could’ve been hours, Caleb stirred and said quietly, “I need to get back to my mom. We can come back tomorrow.”

“Or you could give me a key,” Chase said in a joking voice. He smirked at Caleb, who only sighed sadly. “Yeah, I know, I’m a monster, I might piss on Reid’s chair or something. What time tomorrow?”

“Same time.”

“Fine.” Chase closed the book and levitated it back to its home.

As they went to the stairs and began to climb them, Chase watched the candles flicker out. Halfway up, Caleb said, “You know, if your plan is to read every one it’s going to take you awhile.”

“Maybe one of them will teach me to speed-read.” Caleb said nothing to that, but Chase could practically hear his eyes roll and smirked. “So, what exactly do you do with your life?” he asked Caleb. “You don’t just sit at home staring at your mother, do you?”

Caleb pushed through the door of the shed, leading the way out, then turning to lock it behind them. He shrugged. “I read. Watch tv. Cook. Text with Reid and Tyler. Meet up with Pogue when I can. It’s not exactly exciting, but it’s not as horrible as you’d think.”

“No Harvard, though.”

“No Harvard,” Caleb confirmed, his voice carefully neutral, which in itself was a measure of how much that fact bothered him. He looked down at his shoes as they walked back to their cars. “Maybe when she’s gone, if they’ll have me.”

“Donations go a long way. Did you know that the waitlist at Spenser’s is normally two years?” Chase said, successfully getting Caleb to snort and shake his head. “Seriously, though, if you do wait until she’s gone, you’ll have more money than you know what to do with and you know she would’ve wanted you to use it that way. It’s not like you didn’t study hard enough, you’d just be greasing the wheels because you’re not fresh out of high school.”

“Maybe.”

They reached their cars and Chase was opening the door of the Jag when Caleb said, “Chase.” He looked up and met his eyes over the hood of the car. Caleb held his gaze as he said, “I’m sorry.”

Chase’s throat tightened and he forced his face not to change as he choked out, “Me too.”

Caleb nodded. They both got in their cars and drove off. A short way down the road, Chase checked his rearview mirror to find that Caleb, much to his gratitude, had slowed down enough not to appear there, hidden by the winding roads. Before he looked away, though, Chase realized that his eyes were red in his reflection and he abruptly focused back on the road.


	17. Found

My skin crawled all that morning having Chase out of my sight. He had promised to try not to piss Caleb off and I’d given him some encouragement, but for all the earnestness Chase showed in his regard for me, his regard for others was almost nonexistent and I got the feeling that he didn’t have a great track record for keeping promises. But I had to let him go and to let him go alone. He needed to see the sanctum to get his answers and Caleb could never know that I knew anything about the Covenant.

So, I spent an hour with Bucky in The Hatter’s, drinking tea, balancing the accounts, and placing the supply orders for the week. Then, I tried to curl up with _The Tommyknockers_, but failed to process a single word and ended up cleaning my apartment instead, not that there was much to clean. Still, I needed to keep busy with something physical, something that would keep me from twitching.

Chase had been gone for over three hours when he finally texted me. My shoulders slumped in relief seeing his name flash across my phone and I swiped open the message eagerly.

_Chase: I’m alive._

My brow creased at the short message. Alive and well were not the same things. _Ember: Are you okay? Can I see you?_

_Chase: Aside from an empty stomach, I am physically well. It wasn’t what I expected. Although, there were floating candles and a sacrificial dagger._

_ Ember: Can I bring you lunch?_

_ Chase: That would be amazing. And your guns. I could use a distraction._

_ Ember: And a reward for not getting killed._

_ Chase: Hmm…that too._

I breathed a sigh of relief that he was at least well enough to accept company, but I couldn’t smile. I knew so little about Chase and Caleb’s frought relationship, but it couldn’t have been easy for Chase to spend a few hours making nice with his enemy, a man he’d once picked a fight to the death with. And for Chase, who had grown up in an unhappy home and had never belonged anywhere, it must have been hard just to see the sanctum, a symbol of how firmly Caleb and the other Sons of Ipswich _did_ belong there and always had.

An unsettling thought struck me as I collected my guns, ammo, and purse. Chase had told me that he was adopted when he was two years old. Had he known about the Covenant? He couldn’t have. What had it been like, then, when he realized he had the Power? He wouldn’t have known anything about it, not where it came from, why he had it, or how to use it. And he’d had no one to ask. The other Sons of Ipswich had grown up knowing about the Power, would have learned how to Use together, would have had access to Caleb’s sanctum together.

No wonder Chase had been willing to fight them to save his own life. In his situation, alone, bitter, and jealous at eighteen, I might have done the same.

I loaded my gun cases into the back of my car, called in the Chinese food I was craving, then proceeded to the grocery store for shooting supplies. Who wanted paper targets when there were much more interesting options at the grocery store? Trunk full of suitable targets and Chinese food on the passenger seat, I reread the address Chase had texted me and headed north out of town.

The cabin Chase was renting was on a backroad so isolated it didn’t show up on my phone’s GPS. The nearest house was half a mile back and the driveway snaked through thick woods. He’d certainly done his research finding a place he wouldn’t be disturbed. The cabin itself was a little A-frame with ancient wood siding, a few small windows, and a dark red door. The clearing around the cabin was small and, like the driveway, unpaved and carpeted with fallen leaves. Chase’s Jaguar was parked near the porch and I parked alongside it, still silently praying that he was okay. The texts had done little to convince me.

I got out of the car, Chinese food in hand, and paused a moment to smell the crisp fall air and listen to the wind whistling through the woods and the birds chattering in the distance. There was no sound of traffic or of the water and it was soothing. The front door creaked and I looked immediately to it as Chase stepped onto the porch. He was in stocking feet and a cozy-looking grey sweater that made me want to just curl up on the couch with him for a few hours. His face was drawn in weariness, but his eyes brightened and he smiled softly at the sight of me. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I said back. I climbed the creaky steps of the porch and stepped into his orbit, wrapping my free arm around him. His own arms encircled me slowly, like he was too tired to lift them, and when I held him a little tighter his guard dropped and his shoulders with it. “Come on. You’ll feel better with some food in you.”

I didn’t ask him about the sanctum or Caleb as we ate, passing containers back and forth across the little café table in the cabin. I told him about my own morning instead, then we talked about our favorite takeout foods, then about food in general. Chase was quiet, but seemed to be warming up with the help of distractions. I hadn’t known what to get him and had ordered extra entrees, so we packed the leftovers into his sparse refrigerator when we’d finished. Then, uncertain, I hugged him again and asked him quietly, “Do you still want to see me shoot? Or we can just snuggle on the couch or the bed.”

He exhaled as he thought about it, then said, “I do still want to see you shoot. But maybe snuggling after?”

“Sure, baby. Come on.”

We found our shoes, then I led him out to my car and popped the trunk. While I looked around for the best spot to set up, Chase raised an eyebrow at the three bags of grocery store brand flour, four pumpkins, and half dozen cans of cheap vegetables. “Let me get this straight…you shoot food?”

“Yep.” Range found, I grabbed a large pumpkin and handed it to him. He looked down at it skeptically, so I added, “Much more satisfying than paper targets. And after we’re done here, you’re going to have an army of woodland critters visiting you to eat this up.”

“Is that even legal?”

I smirked at him. “I don’t believe for a moment that you care about what’s legal. And if you’re doing it on private property for the purpose of target shooting and there’s nothing beyond the targets that might be a person, it’s perfectly legal.” I stacked another pumpkin on top of the one already in his arms and he balanced them carefully, then followed me as I carried all three bags of flour under my arms to a spot on the edge of the woods. The small bags were so much more manageable than the bulk ones I lugged around the tea room. 

The woods were thick around the cabin and the earth angled upwards into them on the east side, creating a slight berm. I set the flour bags down at the edge of the woods and gestured for Chase to do the same, then we went back for the cans and the remaining pumpkins. When we had everything collected, I directed him in helping to scatter the objects in the woods in shooting lanes. The manual labor and thought involved in eyeballing the makeshift shooting lanes seemed to occupy Chase well and he regained some focus as we worked. Finally, I retrieved my gun cases and ammo and laid them on the porch near our shooting lanes. “Have you ever fired a gun?” I asked Chase.

Chase shook his head, watching as I unlatched my rifle case. “The Collins’s were city people. They turned their noses up at hunting and the handgun was very much for home defense only, not for touching.”

I pursed my lips in displeasure at that, eyes on the magazine I was loading. “People shouldn’t own guns unless every resident in the house knows how to use them. Otherwise the gun is either useless or as dangerous as an intruder.”

“I’m pretty sure neither of them had ever fired it either. I always rolled my eyes when I thought of it, wondering if they even remembered how to turn off the safety.”

I pointed to the safety on my .22 as I reached for the bag of earplugs I kept in my ammo bag. “If you’ve never taken the safety off before, you might be dumb enough to mistake the mag release for it in an emergency. Some guns are obvious, but not all of them.” I handed him a set of earplugs and put my own in as I said, “This is a .22 rifle and my first gun. Good for shooting small game or targets mostly and good for learning.” I loaded the gun and turned to our range, moving slowly so he could watch me doing everything the right way. I put a few rounds in a mid-range pumpkin, then a few more in a can of green beans. When I flipped the safety back on and looked to Chase, there was a dangerous gleam in his eye and a curl to his mouth. Warmth bloomed in my chest and I smirked and offered him the rifle without bothering to ask whether he wanted to try. The answer was obvious.

Chase was a quick learner and a talented aim. He didn’t flinch at the noise or the kickback on the larger guns, like my shotgun or .44 magnum, the so-called ‘moose handgun’. In fact, those were his favorites. When he kept shooting after my wrist and shoulder were aching, I raised an eyebrow at him, but he just shrugged. “What can I say? I like power.”

I couldn’t argue with that, knowing very well how good it felt to have that power rattling in your arm, that adrenaline rush, that confidence in being able to control something so dangerous. So, I just leaned against the porch and smiled, watching him send flour, beans, and pumpkin innards exploding into the woods with each shot. He was clearly feeling like himself again and watching him shoot had me itching to drag him to bed. Or the nearest flat surface. The cabin was isolated enough that I was starting to think the porch would do.

When Chase smirked at me and put a .44 magnum bullet in each of the six cans in a row, I decided that we were done. He put the safety on the empty gun and I wrapped my arms around him from behind, sliding one hand down his chest and past his belt buckle to palm him. He was already hard and I shook my head at him, then pressed a lingering kiss to the side of his neck. “You tease. You’ve been getting off on this too.”

“Obviously,” Chase said, his voice low with want. He lowered the .44 magnum in one hand and cradled my face in the other so he could turn his head and kiss me. The kiss was filthy and rough, which was everything I needed right then and apparently everything he needed to. In a matter of seconds, Chase had turned to put the .44 magnum in the case and crowd me against the side of the porch, hands wandering and tugging at or bypassing my clothes where it was convenient. “Inside?” he groaned between kisses.

“Help me get these back in the trunk, then you can do whatever you want to me.”

Judging by Chase’s wicked smirk, I’d chosen dangerous words. “Deal,” he said.

Less than five minutes later, Chase was leading me up the rickety spiral staircase that led to the cabin’s attic-turned-bedroom, both of us laughing as I took full advantage of his hands on me to avoid falling. By the time my back hit the mattress, I was missing both socks, my sweater, and my tank-top and Chase was missing his sweater and t-shirt. He followed me down and ravaged me with kisses as we struggled out of more clothes, chucking them across the room every which way as long as they were out of the way. When he sank into me, finally, it felt so good I screamed his name. As he bottomed out, filling me so perfectly, Chase uttered the filthiest string of curses I’d ever heard in my life, then began drowning me in kisses as he pistoned in and out of me, driving our pleasure higher and higher. I caught myself raking my fingernails down his back and tried to hold onto his shoulders instead of drawing blood, but caught up in the frenzy I found myself scoring lines down his spine again minutes later. He minded it about as much as I minded the bruises he was leaving on my hips and wrists, which was to say that they only encouraged him. 

“So fucking greedy,” Chase groaned, and I didn’t know whether he was referring to himself or to me. We were both greedy, unable to get enough. I canted my hips up off the bed to meet him and he responded by grabbing my ass roughly in his hand and pulling me to meet him. My back arched helplessly and he sat up, dragging me with him with both hands on my ass, holding me up as he fucked into me over and over. I wrapped one leg around his waist, needing him there, needing more, and stared into his sexed-out blue eyes as he stared back down at me. He looked thoroughly debauched and so sexy it hurt, eyes black with lust, sweat beading on his forehead and chest, muscles taut with the effort he was putting in.

Chase smirked at me and adjusted his grip on my ass so he could skate the fingertips of one hand between my cheeks, sending a jolt up my spine and a cry from my throat. It wasn’t something I’d want on its own, I’d once explained to an ex out of frustration that women weren’t equipped with ‘on switches’ back there, but he had me so full right now and I still wanted more. Chase’s smirk widened and he swiped his fingers up to where we were joined for just a moment, enough to make me cry out again, then he was back. His index fingers, warm and wet now, teased at my entrance and he murmured to me, “This what you want, baby?”

Words failed me and I found myself nodding instead as I gasped for air. He was still pounding into me deep and fast and didn’t let up as he just barely nudged his fingertip inside me. My jaw dropped in a gasp and sounds I’d never imagined myself capable of making poured from my mouth as he fingered me, slow and shallow at first, then more boldly as my body bucked in his arms, desperate for more. I’d never been so full or so needy in my life and when I came, stars burst behind my eyes and Chase cried out another string of curses, pulled under too from feeling me come undone.

When I drifted back to the tangle of limbs that was a very sexed-out Chase and I, the word ‘earth-shattering’ came to mind and a silly grin spread across my face. Chase laughed quietly and kissed my cheek. His breath was hot on my skin as he lingered and I turned my head to catch him in a slow, lazy kiss. 

Lips brushing mine as he spoke, Chase murmured to me, “Where have you been all my life?”

I tightened my arms around his spent body and nuzzled his nose with mine. “Looking for you,” I whispered.


End file.
